The youth of your heart
Pulsates
By a sacred river,
You jump up and down,
Like a prophet,
A keen believer.
Your soul's warm like the Sun,
Your dreams are violet and sweet,
Before the story's done,
Can we possibly meet?
My look is made
Of transparent and warm molecules,
You seek the places where you could return
To the basics
Of your destiny.
Ametrine
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122090703343
Свидетельство о публикации №122090703343
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