Are you so sure, in heart and mind,
You know the bounds that fate unwinds?
Can you divide with steady hand
The trumpet’s call from shadowed land?
Can you still feel that fleeting spark,
A fire lost within the dark?
The echoes of what once was done,
Now dust beneath a setting sun?
Did you not trade, without a thought,
The valiant soul for one distraught?
The ashen ghosts of kin so bright
For ruins cold, devoid of light?
Perhaps you chose to turn away,
To forge your crown in halls of clay,
Where golden dreams in silence grow,
Yet never hear the war drum’s blow.
And yet, despite all time has spun,
I call you back, O wayward son!
Stand by my side, stand bold, stand true—
For victories wait, not one, but two.
Стих уходящему солнцу, на английском
© Copyright: Серж Блэйк, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125032700274
Свидетельство о публикации №125032700274
Рецензии