Lift your thine eyes
Look inside my bleeding heart
See that beauty game of shadows
Past visions of me and you
Wait for me I’m going through the darkness
Black vultures flying upon my broken soul
No more words to describe how I’m tired
Tired of it all
In shadow lands I hear the last bird singing
Singing her last song
She is like me: lose everything with her own home
I think that we much near than it seems
The black bird flying, flying
Fly so high in the sky
For moments seems that she can touch the Heaven
But she is flying only to fall down
Fall down to reach the death.
Song of the Black bird
© Copyright: Александр Цветков 88, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №226051401308
Свидетельство о публикации №226051401308
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