The loved ones turn to dust
In deep and shallow caves
Of our decent souls,
Destroyed by mental raves.
What bindes us to this world
Has never been in price,
We've never been abused-
The dirt is in our eyes.
Once loved now rest in peace-
Forgotten, overthrown -
The trials we now face
Are no one's but our own.
We have a hundred years
To drown in moarnful depth,
To get relieved in grief,
To find out drug in death.
Our agony, our pain -
This is the real cure,
This is the sense of all,
The only one that's pure
Kill your darlings, 1
© Copyright: Ольга Мартынович, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114030400263
Свидетельство о публикации №114030400263
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indeed too straight the line
the one drawn up with fear
to love, to kill, to pine
the only one that's clear
Коридвэн 05.03.2017 06:13 • Заявить о нарушении
the one drawn up with fear
to love, to kill, to pine
the only one that's clear
Коридвэн 05.03.2017 06:13 • Заявить о нарушении