Here is my hand,
My friend.
In the mirror, a portrait stands,
A soul, deep and vast, commands.
I see within his eyes a place,
Where I might take my space.
I saw his darkness, awful and deep,
Not in his hair, but in hidden designs,
In him, I found myself, a moment after,
Burned out and reborn, a phoenix in the sky..
Demons dwell within his core,
Yet together, a garden we could explore.
A love suppressed, yearning to rise,
Nurtured blooms beneath the skies.
Strong and worthy of each other,
If united, not in strife,
We’ll conquer those who stand alone,
We - who were Born for love, yet forgotten by the skies.
I see myself in him,
A hand reaching through the fear,
And now I know, until the end,
Be it his fate or mine to steer.
Here is my hand,
My friend.
Here is my hand, friend
© Copyright: Виктория Клипова, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №224111401143
Свидетельство о публикации №224111401143
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