Анпилова Рада : другие произведения.

Dreamlover

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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At holy night, when I was trying to fall asleep,
To leave the thoughts behind, to force to slip away
All the sad memories I stole from yesterday,
The strangest feeling of the peace became my crib. 
It was a silky soft, delirious blackout,
Unknown tenderness from every unknown god...
Or just insanity, mixed with the poisoned blood -
So I stay breathless, like corpse under the shroud. 
The air"s getting heavy, it"s squeezed by winter cold.
I see the frozen moveless stars, low darkened sky,
And come to understand that I don"t want to fly:
I cut my wings and get it fastened on the cord. 
The time goes by, and blasphemy becomes my toy:
I keep on staring in the mirror, singing plea:
"I want a fallen Seraphim to play with me!
I"m too fed up with saving virtues! I destroy
The smallest glimpse of sin inside of wordless soul!
I see no evil, hear no evil, feel no fear,
I dont ask questions, as my God makes nothing clear,
And I am simply doomed to play this nasty role,
But still believe you may have mercy". I stood up - 
And so did my reflection... must something surely change?
I raise my head and catch the fragrance of revenge.
The ice turns into water, falls down drop by drop...
But then I heard somebody counting: "One, two, three:
You have to tell me now, who made you cry tonight".
And yes, I rushed to him, been drunk of sweet delight... 
He made himself perceived, PERCEIVED IN FRONT OF ME.

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Новые книги авторов СИ, вышедшие из печати:
О.Болдырева "Крадуш. Чужие души" М.Николаев "Вторжение на Землю"

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Кожевенное мастерство | Сайт "Художники" | Доска об'явлений "Книги"