Vintage dream
Rest in silence, my dear,
Rest in the ground of my soul.
Let my words disappear in your ear,
In your eyes I will be only a ghoul.
My lace of my lies is so hard,
Too dark for beliefs,
Too rough cloth for my sensitive heart.
I associate you with sharp white cliffs.
With saint and patethic anger
I keep my mask on my face.
We can meet on that ball only as strangers,
We can only sometimes slow down our pace.
Smiling nobly, squatting in the reverance,
I want just to touch your misty image.
Selecting a hem for only one dance,
I desire passionately to watch ice between us damage.
You nod favourably, I feel myself dissolving
In your demonic view, in your smell,
My blood is ice cold, but boiling,
Everything is whirling as under a magic spell.
It's the end of the ball, you must leave for heaven,
Me - for hell. Under different skies,
In different worlds we sleep. I'm not forgiven
And lonelyness is my price.
2019-05-16 09:15:38
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