Alert and sorrow, clank of broken chain,
Storm warning. Hauling of lonely,
Forgotten soul, that’s playing deadly game,
Oblivion, immortality… His fame
Entwined his music like an ivy limbs.
He dreamt but never saw his own dreams.
I’m flying, crying, opening my cage,
And being afraid of going out there
Just standing very close to the edge.
Reflection in the mirror… Was it omen?
Did I want freedom or it’s just a myth?
And listen to his violin – as if
To be born and to die at the same moment.
Listening to Paganini
© Copyright: Termitka, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102101400884
Свидетельство о публикации №102101400884
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