Without him I'm melting slowly,
As if a candle burns in flame,
And wax is flowing down unlovely
Congealing in the form of blame.
An eye of moon looks through the window,
It's silvering his outline.
I see instead of room a meadow
And hear he's praying me to sign.
But it's a dream,and we are lonely
Divided by a lot of miles.
Without him I'm dying slowly.
So it was written not for lies.
13.09.13
So it was written
© Copyright: Хэльга Штефан, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113091210213
Свидетельство о публикации №113091210213
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