Anna Pavlova 86 - a poetic review 22

The light is blinding - binding - in the air
I carry bits of venomous despair,
As stars that shine keep strolling in parades,
I miss you. While the Sun is going down,
In youthful flames of evening I will drown.

A source of light, a pureness of decisions
Will captivate my frail yet mighty vision.

© Anna Pavlova 86

© A derivative work (poetic review) created by Maryna Tchianova


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