The alarm is sounding—the Indian sunset, blazing like fire,
The temple of nature calls to this world, mounting higher.
I hear the deception this world always brings—
It crawls into my ears like an old friend’s whisperings.
It will deceive again—and again the circle will spin.
But there, beyond the walls of bending bamboo,
It is not God who sits—but longing, and parting from you.
The alarm is a signal—a code to rise and depart.
You alone choose—hell or heaven, the road you took to your heart.
Sunset-Indian alarm
© Copyright: Максимильян Мельков, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126070100414
Свидетельство о публикации №126070100414
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