You are the light I long for in the dark—
The one who heals my wounds, leaves its mark.
In me you see the Master, raised above the rest,
While I’m just a quiet slave, bearing a mortal crest.
But you appeared in my fate like a greedy sigh,
You caught me off guard, you caught my eye.
You are the face of all that dares to live—
Innocent? Wicked? Too much to give?
Such is the fate of those who sing their Muse:
Is it bliss they carry—or a weight they choose?
Perhaps it’s time to learn this lesson deep:
My heart and love I gave to the Witch to keep.
The Master and Margarita
© Copyright: Викки Мун, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №226071001726
Свидетельство о публикации №226071001726
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