Unspoken magic light
Is melting in the air,
Wings of the wind
Have spilt the flavours,
Waking up the night.
Time cock is split.
One’s fingers running
Through one’s hair,
Make sounds die away,
The shadows indistinct.
Night’s in the toils,
But deadly morning is unfair
For us, who yearn to stay,
Under the darkness favour
Forever and a day.
night
© Copyright: Oxyck, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106011002365
Свидетельство о публикации №106011002365
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