a dream in a dream it's been.
Have I lost my conscious?
A blatant scene that I've seen,
Look! They're marching!
Down the hill,
they're heading.
I'm stunned, waiting.
A sorrow that follows then,
it's no more than an instant.
But it sheltered itself in the land,
Shattered, distant.
Noone told me,
I mere hear them mourning.
Down the hill they're going.
The grief follows their footprints.
No one told me,
flatlands are quiet.
The commander leads
to an open fire.
As ruthless as it seems, surreal.
Where are they going?
Down the hill
Down the hill
Down the hill
Down the hill
down the hill
© Copyright: Неттер Линг, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122050306573
Свидетельство о публикации №122050306573
Рецензии