Drawing the straight line
I told you it will come a time
when you'll watch with sadness
the straight horizon line.
And you will search for me
in the soft breeze of the wind,
in an old whispered word,
in a present hearthbeat,
In the familiar horizon.
I told you it will come a time
when I'll draw the line
and I'll move on.
And you will search for me
in the soft breeze of the wind,
in an old whispered word,
in a lonely hearthbeat,
in the estranged horizon.
Now, I've drawn the line.
It hurt before drawing it.
And... the pain stayed. Straight.
And intensified.
Every day a thousand times.
Scrisa dupa o idee Writer's Digest. Cred ca o voi prelucra intr-o poezie mai lunga. cat de curand.
