Above all goods
Beneath all evils
There’s still a favor to be made
I’m never asking for forgiveness
For I’m not one who estimates
When eyes-shut I can see no darkness
But some place other than I’m at
A borderline put as a harness
On otherworld to which I’d’ve fled
With course of time its sandy grains
Have gathered round a quite a stone
Its shreds I still feel in my veins
Whenever heart wants to atone
And at the edge of falling weary
I will say
Lasciami sospiri
XI
© Copyright: Запах Сарсапарели, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119022705498
Свидетельство о публикации №119022705498
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