Poezie
Alone
1 min lectură·
Mediu
Falling like snow... so cold,
The time falls upwards on ideas
~Of white doors~
And heavy stones press hard
On battered nerves
~To break my will~
The hourglass turns still,
With backward steps
~To greet the other day~
And so it ends... they say,
When the piano starts to play
~On beat of sudden claps~
Such endless noise:
\"It plays on words\"
Spoke fair to me, my tongue
And all I am, I loved,
In words I write or say
And sought to play alone,
For one last time...
036435
0