Discouragement
In the long autumn without winter and spring I step on the fine gravel
of days with my exhausted trade. Such a severity behind my back, and sweat
from my face is dripping with the heavenly cold rain on my sick soul. I will
turn around, no, rather, I will come back to the unwelcome summer, where life
was trickling by moments of life so joyfully and wholeheartedly. But it was
enough to wake up – and all disappeared and acquired a long mark of the lingering
pain on the monotonous rut of the orphaned feelings, that comprehended the mystery
of indifference as a continuation of the colorless rainbow, accepted the grey color
as a guide of hopes.
of days with my exhausted trade. Such a severity behind my back, and sweat
from my face is dripping with the heavenly cold rain on my sick soul. I will
turn around, no, rather, I will come back to the unwelcome summer, where life
was trickling by moments of life so joyfully and wholeheartedly. But it was
enough to wake up – and all disappeared and acquired a long mark of the lingering
pain on the monotonous rut of the orphaned feelings, that comprehended the mystery
of indifference as a continuation of the colorless rainbow, accepted the grey color
as a guide of hopes.