The Magician of the Emerald Town
Spread a path of holy powder.
I feel anguish in my head,
And you bait soul by black flowers.
Doll, dependent.
Bite and beat me!
The Immortal
Gets old and dies.
The Magician of the Emerald Town
Will direct you beyond the grid.
If you don’t want to be a clown,
His empty phrases have a dreft.
Свидетельство о публикации №207102300008
Кийа Пигоспио 15.07.2008 11:39 Заявить о нарушении
Курманова Ольга 18.07.2008 22:43 Заявить о нарушении