My years fly by —
The soul is still.
And yet — goodbye
To empty fears.
My verse so thin,
Sometimes not live —
There’s something in
That always shines.
Though shadows creep
And light may fade,
A quiet depth
Won’t be betrayed.
A spark, a thread,
A silent call —
What can’t be said
Outlives it all.
My years
© Copyright: Лилия Михайличенко, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126013007733
Свидетельство о публикации №126013007733
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