Screaming crows with blackest wings...
ate the sorrow of young gods....
Water from which they drank...
has turned murky, bitter, against all odds...
They kept on circling above our heads...
as to mimic the course of anarchy...
What can we do to keep the delusion?
Hearts weight heavy, counting each breath...
Tired eyes relentlessly searching...
for answers worth the cost of a healthy mind...
If it all ends - we find, we win, we discover...
look ahead, crows are circling again...
Until there's nothing more to run from...
we storm past our lives...
as we see the blackest wings of screaming crows...
and they whisper us the secrets worth the cost of a healthy mind...
YOU ARE READING
Värvitud sinised linnud
PoetryVärvitud sinised linnud on kurvad. Nad ei nuta, vaid raputavad tiibasid ja pritsivad värvi. Kogumik luuletustest nii inglise kui ka eesti keeles. / The colored blue birds are sad. They will not cry, but shake their feathers and spray paint. This is...
