Oh, dear! How unfair I was to you.
Perhaps I played the game too harsh;
I went too deep in highland dew,
Too loud performed the Turkish march.
The more my heart grew fond of you,
The deeper blade drew scars on you.
And thorny novel shall be doomed;
Therefore, anemones have bloomed.
The kiss of Judas was the last;
I laid our love to Rest in Past.
Judas
© Copyright: Тамила Мальчевская, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126071000540
Свидетельство о публикации №126071000540
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