Between your fragile heart and mind
There is a holy war.
It crashes all the dreams so kind,
So innocent and sore.
Your thirst for life is draining you
From the deepest inside.
You save yourself by something new,
By passions, craving, light.
To fill the empty bowl of feels
You’re trying to create,
To raise the ruined bleeding hills
Of the injured fate.
Oh, sweetest, beautiful my nights…
And why are you so short?
We have no time, we lose all signs
That gave us our world.
So sensual looks and gentle talks –
It makes us to survive…
These tender hugs and silent walks
By which we are alive.
And slowly, slowly the sunshine
In your so tired eyes
Will fade away breaking the line
Between the dark and rise.
February, 2020
Beautiful night
© Copyright: Элеонора Вало, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120121508691
Свидетельство о публикации №120121508691
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