When I was crying in despair,
You were twinkling in the dark.
This secret transient affair
Was like a most fantastic drug.
Now I am haunted by your devils,
And they are skilled to twist the knife.
They image all my bitter 'nevers',
Drag to the circle number five.
It was a game to take an airing,
And then it turned into a trap.
Unspell me, Any Descent Fairy.
'Cause if I take another step,
There is an abyss full of spectres
I've made through folly.
What a shame!
So many curious spectators,
And none - to shuffle off the blame.
Now I am haunted by your devils
© Copyright: Ронни Фоксова, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117091907464
Свидетельство о публикации №117091907464
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