Like the heroes of war
we kill all we adore
we can bring it all down to the ruins
All the presents of fate
we're apt to devastate
and we choose the most cruel way to do it
And just after we've done
all the damage and harm
we come to realize fatal error
And we cannot sleep calm
till the rise of the sun
waking up from the nightmares in terror
Irreparable actions
lead to deadly infection
and the life becomes only existence
Helpless, now we would rather
start again with each other
but what's left for us is only distance.
адреса: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=364025
Рубрика: Лірика
дата надходження 14.09.2012
автор: Burg-Art