The paths converged like a maze
Ornament tight braids,
Entwined in a ball forever thread,
The scales swung to the side.
Swords crossed at dawn,
The separation is stained with wine.
Together all the symbols and signs,
Everything that used to be a dream.
But the balance returned
Back to the old scales.
In them the feelings of the past awoke
With the peal of a March thunderstorm.
And then I see the intersection,
Fate calls me forward.
Everything will be resolved very simply,
And life will bring me happiness.
The paths converged like a maze
© Copyright: Эмма Тимуровна Сысоева, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010211328
Свидетельство о публикации №120010211328
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