25 февр. 2014 г., 22:20

Sandy boy 

  Поэзия » Философская
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In a state of sick inspiration
I created a human of sand,
As a blessing or a damnation
Fell in love with the deed of my hand.
And engulfed I was watching its features
In a sweet and enjoyable sadness.
Adoration of soulless creature
In a blind and uncurable madness.
I was desperate that if I take
My precious beloved in my hand
With a silent scream it would break
And turn back again into sand.

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