There is on my chambers wall
Black cross of windows frame
Leaves look like some childs ball
In the wind calling my name
Under cover of the white night
The wind in damned bullys shell
Knocks at window by all might
Whispering through glass some spell
Wind predicts reputations spot
Nonsense Maybe revelation
Its a pity but we had not
An intimate conversation
The wind melted without find
Cross disappeared on the wall
But word is pulsing in my mind
I am like some puppet show doll
But I think about this word
What the wind could not tell me but
It seems most holy in the world
And I believe that word is ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEjTK_x_5b0
Word
© Copyright: Анатолий Никулин, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125030208345
Свидетельство о публикации №125030208345
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