395
Not Fall
Yet the fall! If I
I suffer, suffer a fall puddle,
The sadness of the past life,
I know that tomorrow will be better
. I'll take a thousand plans
Tomorrow: Nothing
late. My coffin still noise in the woods.
He - a tree. He nurses the nest.
I like a madman, not catching
Any wave. Yet, nevertheless,
When I fall in love again,
Again mad to shiver.
I know that will longing
And friendship, love and disturbing the,
Desperate, I'm a stranger - in itself I find
. But in a fight between him
And yet in me, who is the life glorified,
I will judge his own.
And will this fight inequality.
Author: František Grubin
Picture on preview: Elena Schweitzer / shutterstock.com
via www.shutterstock.com/pic.mhtml?id=151149986&src=id