Can't you see the storm is coming?
The pouring rain is near.
My sun was stolen,
a loud thunder is all I hear.
This dark cloud
is approaching me.
It's giving me a sign,
the storm is being formed by my tear.
So here I am, waiting for the disaster.
This is in my nature.
Look, the rain is coming even faster.
It will drown me, I'm a failure.
It's starting, raindrops on my window,
waterfalls in my soul.
All i see is my reflection in the mirror.
These waves are making me fall.
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YOU ARE READING
Mess
PoetryЖивотът ме направи една бъркотия от емоции. Оплитам се в собствения си хаос с всеки изминал ден и чувството е задушаващо. Но изкуството освобождава душата ми от болката и я превръща в нещо красиво. Това е мигът, в който се чувствам свободна. Думите...
