The Impending Death Of A Virgin Spirit

Автор: Вячеслав Карижинский


Cold pale skies

Washed away

Years off from your face

And you like those days



Standing cold

And alone

Full of skyborn dreams

Searching for the half of you



Winter tells

Foreign strangers eyes

They call back your cries

But did not stop thus

At your sight

Blizzard grows to fight

Grip your pillow tight

Dreams can't hurt you that



There is something wrong

To watch them go forever

And never take them home



Once for more

You are to escape

Your divinity

Does it mean betrayal



Grounded low

On the firmament

You will pay the rent

As your purity has fled



Look behind

Thousand worlds lean down

To the nebulous shrine

In oblivion



Loose the skies

Or drown in your heart

And become a part of those worlds apart



You can still drive home

Watching snowflakes melt away on their own