No summer in my secret garden
No open windows in my inner space
It seems I lose control, the muscles harden,
it feels like ice, like ice in all my veins
but who complains? but who complains?
ref:
the space is over
feel free to lose or win
I have to run inside this ordinary scene
the space is over
beyond, between
....
remembering that spring
No, no, no summer in my garden
no doors, no windows in my space
No alter ego for excuse and pardon
it feels like touching all my pains
but who complains? but who complains?
the space is over
the space is over
the space is over
beyond between
....
remembering that spring
remembering that spring
© Copyright: Сергей Косяшников, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121050608433
Свидетельство о публикации №121050608433
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