So many candles are around.
So many people have been dead.
We ought to have a tiny bound,
The edge, the trip, the bad.
Our house had left last year quickly.
The flames had eaten it, away.
Just tell me, mom, just tell me briefly,
How could we live a day to day?
I have no joy of any sunny
Morning, food and so on.
Just tell me, tell me, mommy,
Why have we stayed alive, reborn?
So many photos and the tables.
I know them and so long
I have been praying for the fables.
I don’t believe that we are born…
And in the shadows, creepy evenings
We’ve found the roads up to Hell.
The very funeral of meaning,
Burial ground, burial bell…
03.09.2023 (11:03 pm)