Turning Into a Bird

Maybe this wave will be a decisive
Maybe this step will be the first flight
Maybe the rainbow will never be green
If not the inkwell in your head in the time a tide
The main thing is not to lose heat
Flying over the northern seas
Listen to rays and streams
Kiss white caps of the mountains
The sky is reflected in my eyes, in your eyes
Cooling down the breath of the north
Of course if you thought about it
When was turning into a bird
And i, like eternity, is chained to the rusty fence
Covered with glass of your hopeless spring
You called me every time and everywhere
But you were wrong - i have never had wings
So maybe this wave will be alusive
Maybe this step will be the first flight
Maybe deathblow will never be the final scene
If not the inkwell in your head in the time a tide



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