Shattered dreams and oaths, all broken,
Thoughts and feelings, never spoken,
Distant visions of the past.
It's eternity they last.
Dreaming of what I've once owned,
And the roads I have roamed.
Days keep running. Rapid, fast.
Time is turning into dust.
Now the wounds are almost cured,
Lace o'fortune gently lured.
But the filth is deep inside.
Never washed by ocean tide.
Through the years, I still stand proud.
Shouting loudly upon crowd:
"Come, the one I'm destined for!
Take my soul... And even more."
Even more
© Copyright: Иван Кунташов, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114122400974
Свидетельство о публикации №114122400974
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