A man was walking in the rain
During one lonely night.
His mind was innocent and sane,
He had nothing to fight.
The drops of tears had just dried,
He carried on his way,
And only subtle so far light
Was following that fate.
The man was asking on and on
Some questions: "Who am I?
What colour is my aching soul?
When did I break my inner tie?"
The rain kept going stronger,
The thunder interfered,
His trip continued longer
Than it at first appeared.
And step by step he vanished
In nighty rainy mist,
Just by wind he was cherished,
His friendly inner priest.
Inner priest
© Copyright: Виктория Алексеева 777, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121082907813
Свидетельство о публикации №121082907813
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