Don’t look at me, I’m a scarred up soul –
My heart has been stolen,
I’ve got a huge black hole
Where it used to be. I’m deaf, I’m cold!
He took my soul so long ago,
That horrid dreadful vicious man,
Without a soul where could I go?
So, I kept roaming this lonely land.
Yet still sometimes a blast of vision
Stops me on my worn out track:
To go with him was my decision,
There was a moment to turn back.
And now don’t ever look
At me for I’m but a form of shadow,
My vibrant soul that he took
Is buried with him in that summer meadow.
On widowhood
© Copyright: Нина Вольга, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123062906459
Свидетельство о публикации №123062906459
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