Ash falls softly on the tray,
The light fades gently from your face.
Our love is bound to die today,
But I'm still begging you to stay.
The clock hands make another round,
Our gestures flicker, lost in haze.
The heartbeat hums its final sound,
A rhythm we can't erase.
Time’s playing tricks; your soul takes flight,
I can't believe it as your plane ignites.
Time’s testing us; we’re close to the end —
Is this a divide we can’t salvage or mend?
The Airbus stole you far away,
To lands across the sea.
It didn’t pause or care that day,
For all it took from you and me.
No time to show what words can't say,
These feelings held so tight.
We’re wanderers, lost along the way—
Like abstract art that hides the light.
Final Call
© Copyright: Миша Биркин, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125011806909
Свидетельство о публикации №125011806909
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