Coming home
Through the shadows, burning bright,
I have never felt so sure,
It has never felt so right.
I have plundered foreign lands, and
Made a king forsake his throne.
After all ironic blunders
It's akin to coming home:
Navigating puns, omissions,
Our mutual disguise
For a spark of recognition,
Slowly dawning in my eyes.
Свидетельство о публикации №118050802372
Давид Синицын 08.05.2018 12:01 Заявить о нарушении
Кристина Девулите 08.05.2018 14:19 Заявить о нарушении