How can you not see
all the way it goes?
Away the words.
My outer nerves.
And i spoke to myself.
Whatever ends
inside you eyes,
and in my hands.
The dark, that breeds,
how hard it feels
to know that it's
the all we need?
And neverending trees
are burning to the ground.
All the rocks in my shoes
is dragging me down.
I want to know the truth,
but don't want to hear,
Because we very late
to inhale near.
My outer nerves
© Copyright: Сергей Шагеев, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126021309695
Свидетельство о публикации №126021309695
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