Искусствоед
Michael Faudet
Lost Words
A midnight scribble,
a morning sigh,
you watch the words,
curl up and die.
Madness lives
inside your head,
of poems lost,
and pages dead.
A mind possessed,
by unmade books,
unwritten lines
on empty books
Lost Words
A midnight scribble,
a morning sigh,
you watch the words,
curl up and die.
Madness lives
inside your head,
of poems lost,
and pages dead.
A mind possessed,
by unmade books,
unwritten lines
on empty books