empty rooms are good for burning castle,
but burning heart is such a vulnerable thing...
though dancing flares of fire are extremely gracile
their tails have got a sting...
sinking boat destroys the pending calmness,
no one saw the marks of deadly rust...
let some be searching high and low persuing warmness,
my feathers in the dust...
fallen star fulfills the secret longing
vanished light is sign of coming dream...
a new beginning, everlasting road is crawling...
my death is morning beam...
Too late
© Copyright: Валар Моргулис, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116081901212
Свидетельство о публикации №116081901212
Рецензии