Loss

Ольга Гуро-Фролова
Oh,sadness,
Damn it sleep that  happiness stole and covered,
Leaving ash background feet,
Walking on gravel, being stacked.
For you without sleep, ignoring any prediness.
I'd tell the mountain, you locked in.
Wind fluffed the game for  stuffing,
A minute of waiting turned into   screep,
Covered by the secret forces of sadness,
Where was the screaming of the word
That prayed to the dream, opened the washing of shadows,
They bordered on clouds when prayers reached the dream,
When you cried to the moan of collapsed ,
A plumb line fallen on falling scream.

The lava boiled like a living flippes,destroyed the cities,
 Spelling the name,with ash covering the flames again,
And again on the ground, grumbling, lowering her vein.
Silence...
When you can not hear your heartbeat in the pit of lies.,
When the soul soars over the abyss in tears online.
I tried to whisper the name, prophesying some  dreams.
The lips moved in a delirium of sadness ,as inviting him,
Sparks of the rainbow, guessed the whim,
Which were like abysses caught in the stream.
You timidly, in a whisper, beloved hit
When the wind tored the nerves and brought down the crying fell in ,
Exploding the passions that were boiling ,
Rejecting the impulse of skimming passion .