You're weak
But your will is strong.
You're sick
Оf thousand words which wrong.
You're lost
In an endless awful storm
Of ghosts
Without names and forms.
Skies fall
Down on you. You're scared
Of walls
Which shapeless appeared.
You want
To run away from here,
You want
To banish your eternal fears.
Believe
Once you could be free,
Could live
Without cells and fears.
Fears
© Copyright: Наталия Парамонова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112020211998
Свидетельство о публикации №112020211998
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