Honour to your spotlight, Miss,
To this well-known kindness, bliss.
And doom to my introvercy,
Abandoned guise of courtesy.
Around thy rose are many bees
Obsessed with hunger. You try to please
The one who'll be with thee complete.
Is that what's called ideal of greed?
From being with sun which shines so brightly,
But emanating warmth unrightly
I've flown as far as wasp-like rebel,
From the sky of Eden in guise of devil.
Eternal solitude, not my dear,
Thee'll never know how does it feel
Suppose, thy needles are all gone
Thee still have bees, you're not alone
And fellow roses all around
Day-by-day more proud and proud
So shining brighter that in Hell
Your arrows strike forsaken den.
And only when reminded by
The time that passes, eating life,
You dare to mate them, wasped bees,
But they forgot how to mate thee.
Honour to your spotlight
© Copyright: Гиорги Каркузашвили, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120061207968
Свидетельство о публикации №120061207968
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