I never could imagine that sometimes
So bittersweet, our consciousness is ending.
A child of sky has wings, that’s why it flies
In the blue forest, rushing, breathing, bending.
The frozen sunsets and the raining veins,
The ugly fairies murmuring damnations,
Their black and rubbish never-ending veils
Will never pass the bridge of my Salvation.
The past is just a film in our mind.
The cinema is empty, not a whisper,
The lights are down, and all the shades are blind.
The sound of my own steps, my shy twin-sister,
The only one who takes me to the door,
The only one who answers in the darkness.
She never says what we are fighting for,
My marble monster full of tiny sharpness.
Her nails and teeth are chasing me all night.
She’s just a shade, in fact, a dead nightmare,
She is too grey and odd to be in sight.
If ghosts do not exist, why do I care?
It’s just a film.
Just a film
© Copyright: Ф.А.С.М.а, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104082100814
Свидетельство о публикации №104082100814
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