There is no one left around,
To your thoughts you now are bound.
Why did all this have to happen?
Your knees hit the cold hard ground.
Then you look up to the sky
Reaching your hands to what‘s high,
Either praying for a savior
Or just letting out a cry.
Only thing you see above
Is a tiny little dove.
Warmth goes all over your body
As he lands onto your glove.
All the sorrow in your mind,
All the dark that made you blind
Disappears within a second,
You no longer are confined.
You now see a moments' power -
There‘s no such thing as worst hour.
If right now the sun is shining -
You forget yesterdays' shower.
Worst hour
© Copyright: Карташов Александр, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118022407134
Свидетельство о публикации №118022407134
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