top of page
BLURRED BEGGARS WORLD
The place where there are no judjes
We want to forget how people melt
As the first snow dies
Lights will go out soon from their faces
Brightly lit death in the shower
The place where the man closed his eyes
Fireburns on your eyelashes
Have you checked-in to heaven?
And the way is drowned in clichés
The time has come
bottom of page