So many flowers are to bloom in vain.
So many seeds grow just to die ignorant.
It's course of nature and who are to blame,
That even beauty always has its sorrow.
One wishes scene to rest his eyes upon
Another - love, to ends his lonely travel,
But all around the lifeless cold stone,
Beneath the feet is nothing but the gravel.
Sometimes our paths criss-cross and intertwine
For couple days? Till death? Or maybe farther?
Yet answers knows only endless Time.
You'll have one chance to ask and then will be no other.
So many flowers are to bloom in vain
© Copyright: Даниил Винокуров, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121052307441
Свидетельство о публикации №121052307441
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