The sparks are flying
With every passing hour.
The universe is crying
And screaming even louder.
Contracting and expanding
Within its own clutter.
Everlasting and defeating,
Slicing souls like butter.
It cuts and bleeds us,
Serves us on tectonic plates.
Grinds us into memories
And off to black it fades.
Sparks
© Copyright: Григорий Вяземский, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125032506576
Свидетельство о публикации №125032506576
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