There's nothing you can breed about,
Therse more than you can tell,
You've dream above all of that sound
There's more that you can spell.
At warmer agust breeze of night
When heart stop run in beat
Forgivness of her greenest eyes
Makes all the things complite.
Devotion for(of?) that seaside
Burns deeper in you heart.
It's passion that so hard to hide
But harder be apart.
Like moon run track across the sky,
A feeling of her breath
Makes nothing else to sense so hight
Makes more than nothing else.
Agust breeze
© Copyright: Семен Словцов, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117120604179
Свидетельство о публикации №117120604179
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