I could no longer keep it dark,
This heat inside my breast.
Was it your joke, a cruel lark,
That killed me for the best?
My carmine skies, your carpet-grass
And harvest is too soon.
Don’t follow me. Let silver pass
Lead to a silver moon.
There I’ll become a little spark
To read you from above:
I could no longer keep it dark –
Forgive my pain and love!
Secret
© Copyright: Людмила Дмитриевна Назарова, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124122302314
Свидетельство о публикации №124122302314
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