dark nights ahead
with dark minds at helm
whom is the slayer, and who will get slain?
light days approaching, eyes running from them
is what fears the dreamer, or whats dreamed in vain?
closed
tired
restless
wheightful
gloom of anxious brows
shutting close, not for expectations of tomorrow
but of echoes breaking hollows of today
deafening escape
and so, by laying still, i run like hell
into the blacklands of no-morrow
hem
© Copyright: Яшик Косх, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122062100571
Свидетельство о публикации №122062100571
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