Stop transmitting, hear the voice -
Someone's breaking through the waves,
Someone tries to change the choice
Of his destiny's hard ways.
Stop transmitting for a while,
Dive in depth of the white noise.
You will see - he's like a whale:
Splendid but forever lost.
There's no sense to count them -
Those who're lost in airwaves,
Those who're lost in matted lives.
Else just drink the sorrow then.
We can scream by the Morse code,
Knocking frequences in tries
Finding lost and throw them node
With attempt to save the lives.
But your friend claps on the back
Saying: "Silence everywhere.
That is all. Go take your pack.
Turn it off and go downstairs".
What a strike to realize -
This "Mayday" is in your head.
Mind will never recognize
Loneliness with what you're dead.
(с)
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21 июня 2014 года, 00:25, 309 комната, общежитие №4 ПетрГУ.
For the lost
© Copyright: Александр Бахматов, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114062100364
Свидетельство о публикации №114062100364
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