Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Maryna Zhubryk Jan 2019
There is nothing for me to think, there is nothing for me to cry
and feel sorry for yourself.
I should have admired the pink sunset
and the sunrise to wait.
In a dress made of chintz as in a favorite fairy tale
listen to the song of the bird in silence.
Day after day ... on the right ... the prince wait, on his immortal, chosen horse.
And after waiting ...
Together we study in the distance, where everything comes true, fairy tales or dreams.
And with our fairy tale, we will live a life.
In the meantime, I will not think about anything,
but for now I will believe in miracles
and pray quietly and quietly the heavens.
Maryna Zhubryk Jan 2019
A withered flower
like your love.
A heart that is tired and broken,
between us only dispute
fractures, and indifference.
I would throw that flower
give me a fresh flower
I know that with broken bones
I come out of this story.
In front of the broken and old mirror
in the middle of an ancient castle
I pray, I cry and preach
the end, the beginning, change.
Stop!

— The End —