The wings have flickered, clock's about to chime,
The white owl of my thought will spread its wings
Hov'ring o're the misty mountains cold;
The wind unblown, untouched the ringing strings -
Halt. As if no story has been told,
As if no time has passed.. no time.. no time..
The wings have flickered, clock's about to chime,
The deep sea of oblivion's to the brim.
And we sink in it so true, so bold,
And every vision through the depth is dim -
Fantasy full-fledged is to unfold.
No time will cure this flaw.. no time.. no time..
Halt
© Copyright: Зырина Ирина, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113061804127
Свидетельство о публикации №113061804127
Рецензии
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