A day will come when I am no longer here,
When my voice fades and dies in the silence deep.
The world will be just as wildly drear,
And time will not slow down its endless leap.
The grief and doubts will pass, their swarm will leave
Only a rippled surface, faint and pale—
Of dreams unfulfilled and joys we used to weave,
That in some heart will linger and prevail.
The past will be buried under heavy dust
Of problems now unnecessary and vain—
How desperately little is needed, just
To erase from memory those we knew,
Those we loved, but who have left this world in pain?
Yes, I will leave one day—I understand.
Oblivion frightens me, not death's cold hand.
A day will come when I am no longer here Настанет
© Copyright: Илья Лозаненко, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126022003241
Свидетельство о публикации №126022003241
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