The eternal sadness of faded eyes
Just makes me die a thousand times.
Your every single sound of cries
Won't let me perish from heartache twice.
Who can predict my final crash
Despite the weakness and through the truth?
And after all this life's a moulage
That changes from epic win to lose.
When you don't have enough warmth
You should pray the day it rues.
That only death, mine and yours
Will paint the Earth in happy hues.
April 23, 2022
Ghosts
© Copyright: Куаныш Есенов, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122042306344
Свидетельство о публикации №122042306344
Рецензии