*посвящается И.Л.
The night was long,
The road was hard to come along.
Now all remained
After such cold and bloody storm,
To cry. To die. To sleep alone.
And moon turned red, nor blue.
In that ocean eyes of you...
My heart had stopped.
Soul slip unknown,
I cried and whipped,
And left my throne.
Now all remained
When Sunday's gone
To cry. To die. To sleep alone.
Bloody Moon Sunday
© Copyright: Андариель, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116012502176
Свидетельство о публикации №116012502176
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