At the Death of the Past

Surrounded by tobacco fog.
Embroidered sky.
Our eyes locked
In crowds passing by.

Destiny predicted you to me
By sending boats
To the raining sea
Painted on the roads.

But you just want to play my days
Picking none,
Hiding your face
In every ordinary one.

On your lips frozen glint
Can never last.
Snow staying mint
At the death of the past.

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At the Death of the Past

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Surrounded by tobacco fog. Embroidered sky. Our eyes locked In crowds passing by. Destiny predicted you to me By sending boats To the raining sea Painted on the roads. But you just want to play my days Picking none, Hiding your face In every ordinary one. On your lips frozen glint Can never last. Snow staying mint At the death of the past.
2007
© Copyright: Анна Грир, 1 Марта 2011 Свидетельство о публикации №111090315692 \| Просмотров (254) \| Комментариев (0) \| Популярность ()