There is no time to borrow:
It is always for sorrow,
Through way which you follow,
Until you get solo
In metal-gear box,
Which sneaks like a fox.
It is always for sorrow,
Through way which you follow,
Until you get solo
In metal-gear box,
Which sneaks like a fox.
Between hardened rocks
And blinded fogs,
While your mind snaps out,
Fading away, and shout
Without any result
And even small doubt.
Defended for now,
When waterfall bleed.
Twenty in a row
Were fallen for me.
Here I am,
Banned with no reason,
Feeling like in prison,
It’s like every season.
The way which was the best
Is now delayed and denied.
I have too much rest
Yet on my down side.
Cuz
Everything is faded
From your eyes,
It needs to be evaded,
But true lies.
When you got lost at the coast,
Your skin like in a roast.
And you feel so exposed
And admit – you got lost.
The rage is broken out of cage
But something strange, got to exchange.
You can notice it at low range.
The beast is thirsty, his revenge.
Enrage your rage!
Матвеев Д.А.
6 ноября 2014 года
