2.07.2021 г., 1:23 ч.

Naiad XVI.VII.2019 

  Поезия » Друга
583 0 0

River of poisonous gloom water cold
There ahead I behold in the bosom of eve -
Whispers of sorrow covered with mold,
Words never told and anticipations deceived.

 

lukewarm white hands and chill grin,
Teeth sharp and swift jab;
A struggle I know I can't win -
Just a small crimson stain in your lap.

 

The water is above my head, 
The lights are vanish fast;
I saw my body sinking dead,
I reach my harbor last.

 

Whispers of sorrow, covered with mold,
Words never told and anticipations deceived;
River of poisonous gloom water cold
There ahead I behold in the bosom of eve.

© Peter Wolf Всички права запазени

Коментари
Моля, влезте с профила си, за да може да коментирате и гласувате.
Предложения
: ??:??