Dark circle of grief and despair
I see in the every new hope;
A future nostalgy haunts the air,
And the words lace up the throat like a rope.
The moon is in me deep inside,
Her glare is shine on my way;
And maybe some night with her guide
My spirit will achieve her side - away.
And again I cut off the head of my fear,
And again he another head grows;
Is that struggle lasts second or year -
Just drop of а tear into the sorrow's falls.
A future nostalgy haunts the air,
And the words lace up the throat like a rope...
Dark circle of grief and despair
I see in the every new hope.
© Peter Wolf Всички права запазени