By Higher Plane our life is predefined...
Or it is not...
The hallways of your mind
Remind me of the temples of the past -
They are so cold, so long, so dark and vast...
They keep old names, old books, old incense sticks,
They tremble when the world needs to be fixed,
They even seem to talk...
I am aware
Of their fragility
And your despair.
Disparity between our souls so distant
Is in the quantity of gold,
But your existence
By far seems to be shockingly expensive.
Your presence is a dream - long, comprehensive...
Like all the stories of the burning past -
So cold, so long, so numerous and vast...
The hallways of your mind
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122061902876
Свидетельство о публикации №122061902876
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