Naiad XVI.VII.2019
1.1K
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.
Хотите прочитать больше?
Присоединяйтесь к нашему сообществу, чтобы получить полный доступ ко всем произведениям и функциям.
© Peter Wolf Все права защищены
