Rowing from this void, which in me whisper quietly and drink. Bottoms Up! Over the world darkness descends. Stars killed - rusty, bloody stains on the garment in the sky wounded. Sleep anemic moon. In the heart - ice, a piece of cold. Will you draw an arc, before it melts and spring, two hands and one tear, and then a flock of birds in flight ?! Ice is a memory of water, sparkling river, fast-flowing, frozen by loneliness in a foolish world doomed. Knitty inside is empty. Whether a canal is a gondola they carry memories in the night and feels profane, half-naked ?! Whether lead will decide the dilemma from here-beyond ... Who cares?! Leave it! The blossom was too short.
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Thanks! Done! :)
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Beautiful bw photography
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