My shiny Rome,
Where should I roam
To see your noble gloom,
To hear your ressurection
From shameful doom?
I crave for action,
I beg the prudent moon
To take star's immolation
For lightning up a dune.
I'll tear out the desert heart
To reach you with my palms.
I'll go back to the ancient start,
To the mamertines — 'the sons of Mars'
Drowning in the sands of history
© Copyright: Иоанна Игнисова, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124122503792
Свидетельство о публикации №124122503792
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