763
Time
< Yulia Mironenko
while true, though inadvertently
melts your features
to the presence of unbearable and easy bite,
that the crowd is not impossible to know for thousands of people.
it's all just guesses, thoughts, dreams, forgive,
and in the physical world, we again on the way,
and when we meet again in a hurry to talk about the complex:
if somewhere there is a world that something like a theater
if there is time in the world to live, which seems important
and I see, alas, tiredness in your eyes
from the fact that in all these ghostly times
no place and minute that we would call our.
my last desperate gesture - to resort to words,
Tao turning into a war, and in war all means are good:
then all values - just trash
here you glad illusory understanding and neighborhood
then the language as a weapon of mass insanity, life throws a veil,
then you howl in captivity by not found someone dreams in a full moon
then the foundation of the free life of the cell considered,
and the criterion of truth - a word,
and shoot the word "love" for love so aptly.
clap crowd anthem - "I have something that is fear,
help, father, Buddha, Krishna, Allah .. »
Your honor! Excuse me for a moment,
let the air only a sip, drink,
UPEK and then back to an eternity in hell.
"For trying to hide itself behind a sense
sentenced to ambiguity and innuendo "- your verdict;
Yes, born and, as a consequence, the "fault" - it seems to be here called "humanity»
? ... If somewhere, sometime, there exists a puzzle, blurred subside.
after the last boundary shines far vastness - the absolute, paradoxical inevitability;
we do not know what will happen tomorrow, when tomorrow comes.
but today ...
I go into my little world a prescribed sterile
prudence here everything on the shelves: the instructions, goals, plans
. all the best; in the mirror there is no need to look at oneself:
there is always reflected the same gray mummy.
ah, the main thing? - It is, as expected, in a box with tag "Home»
. I do not watch it. there is just something one broken heart.
while true, though inadvertently
melts your features
to the presence of unbearable and easy bite,
that the crowd is not impossible to know for thousands of people.
it's all just guesses, thoughts, dreams, forgive,
and in the physical world, we again on the way,
and when we meet again in a hurry to talk about the complex:
if somewhere there is a world that something like a theater
if there is time in the world to live, which seems important
and I see, alas, tiredness in your eyes
from the fact that in all these ghostly times
no place and minute that we would call our.
my last desperate gesture - to resort to words,
Tao turning into a war, and in war all means are good:
then all values - just trash
here you glad illusory understanding and neighborhood
then the language as a weapon of mass insanity, life throws a veil,
then you howl in captivity by not found someone dreams in a full moon
then the foundation of the free life of the cell considered,
and the criterion of truth - a word,
and shoot the word "love" for love so aptly.
clap crowd anthem - "I have something that is fear,
help, father, Buddha, Krishna, Allah .. »
Your honor! Excuse me for a moment,
let the air only a sip, drink,
UPEK and then back to an eternity in hell.
"For trying to hide itself behind a sense
sentenced to ambiguity and innuendo "- your verdict;
Yes, born and, as a consequence, the "fault" - it seems to be here called "humanity»
? ... If somewhere, sometime, there exists a puzzle, blurred subside.
after the last boundary shines far vastness - the absolute, paradoxical inevitability;
we do not know what will happen tomorrow, when tomorrow comes.
but today ...
I go into my little world a prescribed sterile
prudence here everything on the shelves: the instructions, goals, plans
. all the best; in the mirror there is no need to look at oneself:
there is always reflected the same gray mummy.
ah, the main thing? - It is, as expected, in a box with tag "Home»
. I do not watch it. there is just something one broken heart.
