""Н" значит : Надежда [поэзия]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Лайтбрингер Тимонг)

Еще один

There were many, and were few, And each of them was somewhat new, Yet each was but another mew … So soon away I always flew. And I can't help but to forget How meeting each I was so glad, And how I then buried my hope... This endless quest will never stop. I was afraid to be alone, But long ago those fears gone. You know the bright sight of the thing? This search for you gave me one wing. Is that enough for endless fly Up to the heaven, up for sky, Or will I have to find that one That will be second wing to sun? Another one, another one ... Such cruel joke...that ain't fun ! Reborn each time, reborn and mope ! Oh god, will this quest ever stop ?! The wing has melted, feathers lost, I am no one, I am but ghost, Who thought of love as of life's mother And who for it is yet another. There were many, but so few, To be alone just isn't new, I thought of each as someone other... But each of them is yet another.