We all are as unconscious as the wind,
Our thoughts are torn when touching earth and life,
Our basement is the air, and roofs, and walls,
And everything we trusted flows somewhere.
But we are not a zero, but a one,
We are the running stardust, if not sun,
We are a beam that comes from it upon all dead
Because the sun is our lord the great.
***
© Copyright: Михаил Фризен, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123061205026
Свидетельство о публикации №123061205026
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