Everyone has lost the flow
then feelings gone
and after them emotions.
Senses left behind the door
and grip finally opens.
The Spirit sings
like winter wind
on empty open bottles.
Then comes decay
the foul smell
the war
in which most dead prevail.
You have no passion
neither love
but blind unmeasured relations
i lost this miserable life
to thoughts of hopeful destinations,
and when i found the perfect god,
she turned to be abomination...
agodmination
© Copyright: Евгений Девастатор, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115021403972
Свидетельство о публикации №115021403972
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