My hands are cold, it's sulky
And dreary outside.
These thoughts, they seem so bulky
On endless winter night.
Ephemeral desire
Of hope, and love, and faith
Then - sudden sense of wire
That's barbed around the space
That feel of suffocation
Mistrust, and such renege
Macabre consternation...
I'm sick. With life fatigue.
Winter
© Copyright: Дар Ив, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110053001922
Свидетельство о публикации №110053001922
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