Of what do night’s soft verses tell?
How life grew tired of wishing dreams,
Or, 'gainst the pain we know so well,
Are new days few, or so it seems?
What lights the spark with dreaming's fire?
The distant realms of other-where?
Or fire-winged moths that never tire,
In soulless songs of deep despair?
What do the bridge's pillars trust,
Between the shores of qwerty keys?
To paper, hand-made rustling dust,
Or death’s origami mysteries?
Of what do night’s soft verses tell?
How life grew tired of wishing dreams,
Or, 'gainst the pain we know so well,
Are new days few, or so it seems?
Qwerty Or...
© Copyright: Артур Лено, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126053007109
Свидетельство о публикации №126053007109
Рецензии