These pages written out of love
Will warm your weary soul,
While coldly tearing at the wounds
That once had made me whole.
You played with hearts just like a game,
Like tossing round a ball,
And though strange lips were on your lips,
I still forgive it all.
I’m coming back as through a haze,
I’m coming back, unwise,
Not knowing what is waiting there,
What future in us lies.
But still you’re mine, my dearest one,
My native, closest light.
I love you, kiss you, hold you close,
And keep you through the night, all life
1905
only you
© Copyright: Милодьев Владислав, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126032005228
Свидетельство о публикации №126032005228
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