Distant voices from the past,
Bitter spirit in the glass.
There's no way to stop reflecting.
Dread in mind and limbs:
"I start neglecting
My eternal, precious self!"
He, who tired climbs
The waves of times
Full with demons with the dimes
In their reddish empty eyes,
Drowns in void without a void
Tossing his pathetic coin.
Dig into the ground of feelings,
Friend of mine,
Don't lose their meanings,
Touch their souls and not their sight.
Beg you! Don't leave me in blight.
100
© Copyright: Лаухин, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114010301420
Свидетельство о публикации №114010301420
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