I watch so pretty blooming trees,
I walk on puddles under rain
And wonder whether there is
The force that will relieve again
All feelings once were burnt to dust,
Both wild passion and despair...
Emotions are like treasures, just
They will be never bought on fair.
Who'd give me wings to spread them wide,
Who'd show me heaven to inspire?
I try to find some warmth inside -
But emptiness can not make fire.
... Don't be afraid for me, my dear -
It's drop of rain, not a tear...
Drop of rain
© Copyright: Пламя На Ветру, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108040802454
Свидетельство о публикации №108040802454
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