Call of the Night!
The sun in the east
Is red, crimson
The birds have taken
To wings, a free fly
Down the horizon
A voice emerges
A promise, meant
To be broken
A heart’s cry
A wish ...
A desire ...
The breeze is blowing
To the west
And ...
We are waiting for
The night to arrive!
Is red, crimson
The birds have taken
To wings, a free fly
Down the horizon
A voice emerges
A promise, meant
To be broken
A heart’s cry
A wish ...
A desire ...
The breeze is blowing
To the west
And ...
We are waiting for
The night to arrive!
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.