In our chest
Are pulsing love and hatred,
Like diomond is flashing hided secret,
Faith and devotion now are foes of heartbeat,
As sure as fate!!! We`re turning
Into insect.
We`re faint from hunger,
Boiling our humance,
And priking feel in order to flow blood,
Peppered and salted final rests of essence,
And Evil takes so often for a Good.
God cannot grasp our meaning
While we`re praying,
All words of praise are blending into squable,
Of wild fool animals, but also we are playing
The role of priest, when seat above the bibble.
Repent! Time`ve came to open spring
And Heaven Eye will see souls neatness.
Repent! Sincere avowal in your sins
Will rescue you from the cutting angels wings,
Preserve your inner original ease.
In our chest
© Copyright: Булгаков Я-Ра-Слав, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106040401652
Свидетельство о публикации №106040401652
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