It was the darkest of all my nights.
Breathless surrender without remorse
Slowly dissolves in the breaking dawn
Filling with hope the abandoned corpse.
It was the trickiest joke, indeed.
Loudly echoing sullen eyes,
Which were so harshly deprived of sleep,
Lost any count of stars above.
It was the vision of stolen life,
Which has eventually left my head.
Now there's something about to thrive-
Let it be happiness.
Never pain.
about to thrive
© Copyright: Маша Штормовая, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116090200208
Свидетельство о публикации №116090200208
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