Pathogenesis of the Hypothermia IVII.I.2019

One winter morning on the street
You gave me a handful of affliction;
And I love, and I value - I adore it -
Just a mortal, drowned in a fiction.

You say you like my eyes and hair,
You say you wish I never to amend;
But you never mention the despair,
Because you always pretend.

Now every single winter, which occurs
I see your shade beside the wall;
Just empty space, or maybe curse
On my unending winter fall.

...and I love, and I value - I adore it -
Just a mortal, drowned in a fiction...
Оne winter morning on the street
You gave me a handful of affliction.