The visages of great noblesse and opinion
Who thought of every voice as of their minion
They're eager, more than one can say,
To compete, to sate, to ditch the trail,
Fetch riven "them" to an unambigued "it"
To no avail - this tangle can't be knit.
The try to fill their void is itself hollow
Even though the atrocities could follow
Bring up the raging furnaces once again
They could, although as ever - all in vain
Buth we both know, those intricated guns
Soon'll be as shackled ice in presence of the sun
The Futile Deception
© Copyright: Владимир Максимовский, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120083007935
Свидетельство о публикации №120083007935
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