It oftentimes comes to pass
Amid the thorns and briars of our earthly being
That we do fail to comprehend the genuine meaning
Of the celestial signs of a mass,
Or of the words engraved upon the plates of brass…
We’re captured by the sorrow, grief and doubt,
And sadness falls upon our eyes like a shroud.
We are like fireflies, like jack-o’-lanterns,
A-wandering amid the mighty grass
Of towers, walls and urban thin skyscrapers…
This labyrinth of life is infinite… Alas!
Fall, 2015
The Premonition of Melancholy
© Copyright: Хабибулло-Евгений Киселев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120112907213
Свидетельство о публикации №120112907213
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