The verge

This verge is just a forged fantasy
Releasing our minds to go free
She paints daily monotony,
She uses sweet lullaby melody.

The verge is a little bit of human innermost wishes,
She is taking away all of their anxieties.
She is like a wind-fondling the waves,
The verge is artist who created a new face.

She is wild foam smashed in rocks
Like dark which taking care of paths
Like angel who is roaming the dreams
But it is not enough it seems.

She joins in our souls like devil,
It is breeding in our hearts only evil
She is far away from our reality
But she is close to finding the serenity.

The verge is waft in forgotten forest
We need to find it without time for rest
Waft touched all dead leaves
She is spirit swam in mountainous lakes.

This verge is echo extended in vale
Her body is weak. Her face is pale.
She flies with wings of silence
Beyond this verge, there is no violence.

This verge is indescribable feeling
Beyond her there is dawn bleeding
Like unknown by people art
They are keeping it in their heart.

The shame created this verge
When we have been on the edge
When we want to fall in the chaos
When there is nothing else.

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автор: izzy
раздел: Проза -> Произведения на чужд език
публикувана на: 2007-04-03
прочитания: 134
точки: 2 ( виж далите точки )
коментари: 0 ( виж коментарите )
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