Belong to nowhere.
Exist in nothing.
And though your eyes were sparkling with delight...
Your beads of happiness...They all were swallowed
By solemn
And unconditioned death.
And at the wake,
You do not play too sober -
They'll eat your soul and bluntly spit it out
With shameful words and slimy cheesy sorrow
To put you down...
And down you to the ground.
And after all those stones that were being thrown
At all the houses that'd been made of glass,
You'll search your chest and find just something hollow
And won't remember there used to be a heart...
So, at the wake,
Are YOU the one
Who died?
At the wake
© Copyright: Айли Соль, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122112506232
Свидетельство о публикации №122112506232
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