From whom I should hide my heartsore?
From someone who died after or before
The time when I was saw my empty cradle
And I was singing lullaby. I plucked petal
And dropped the floret from my pale hands --
Last blossom that grew on these barren lands.
When should I stop to hide my limpid tears
And start to give these drops as souvenirs?
I'll soothe the anguish and my aching pain...
And finally I will forget my name...
Eternity condemned my days be a chore.
I put in my lace purse of sleep heartsore...
Heartsore
© Copyright: Твоя Шизофрения, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114052500660
Свидетельство о публикации №114052500660
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