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< Felix Komarov



Every right in his delusion
like the sun, casting shadows that
It has them on different planes
do not like each other.
It's just like a snowstorm
Management
snowflakes and leading them in a circle.
So the idea that thoughts of woven
turns sideways new
revealing themselves only to God
but we see its pathetic
and fighting the inevitable ...
as if the idea was born when the
and then he died a soldier.
So we forgot the birth of
remember only the date of death ...
we only thought and live as shadows
Ty icicles in a whirlwind.
And clinging to the dispute
teeth assert its birth.
So, too, the death claim ...
Spread the word to
bed and decorate it with flowers.
The fact that there is talk
words and the other does not know God
that's drowning in words
road dies giving birth to the word ...
all of course, and it's not new.
Expires soul
words expires anguish
Serce and God passes between us
opening the door for the word.
We are on the verge of the abyss
clinging to other hands
and shiver from the love of heaven
and cold between us.

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