Lost in translation
My tongue's become a striking sword.
I lost myself in stolen dreams,
Life's not so easy as it seems.
My face is calm, but mind's a mess.
I need somebody to confess
That we're just dolls in our Lord's theater,
And what we feel now doesn't matter.
No need to ask 'how', 'where' and 'why',
'Cause in the end we all will die.
Be still, my friend, and don't forget-
The worst companion is regret.
Свидетельство о публикации №108052602569
Good poem!
With best wishes,
Diana!
Диана Давоян 29.05.2008 01:07 Заявить о нарушении