Categories: Tractates

Anguish

The path of return, serene postscript of the unfinished
thoughts and feelings, is making its way to the horizon of winter,
where in the trot of the overweight forebodings, as in the armor
of doubts, I am making my way down the stairs to the dungeon
of satiated fatigue. Like a snowball, like the icy mountain with
the sad Monday, after all Sundays of dream, the whim of my unfounded
fears grows. With the silver of generations into the Silver Age,
I am riding on the white horse like the eternal rider of my own vigil.
And night is in the windows, the voiceless truth of tired events,
have a rest and lean to the ground, it always has a continuation
of life, and when you try this sensual world on and realize that it’s
not yours for a long time, don’t offend with your last passion
other’s womb of love.
admin

Leave a Comment
Share
Published by
admin
4 years ago

Recent Posts

WAR CONTINUES

The war goes on.The war goes on.War runs.War flies.Today I rememberwith what passionin my childhoodwe…

3 days ago

The Polish publishing house plans to publish a bilingual collection of poems by Oleksandr Korotkо

Yesterday, Oleksandr Korotko received a letter to his personal mail, which mentioned the intention of…

3 days ago

A new poem by the author has been published on the site

Olexandr Korotko is constantly working on new works, which we regularly publish in the relevant…

2 weeks ago

“Love is bitter by separation, by almonds…”

* * * Love is bitter by separation, by almonds, a ruined era, November, the…

2 weeks ago

“Is it possible to get tired of many circumstances, of a monotonous and monotonous life…”

* * * Is it possible to get tired of many circumstances, of monotonous and…

3 weeks ago

“Every nation and its country has a time of rise…”

* * * Every nation and its country has a time of rise, growth and…

1 month ago