| Bottomless, blue ocean of dreams!
|
| The waves subsided, the wind stopped. |
| Time passed past midnight.
|
| In one moment that midnight became a bright morning;
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| She said: “There is no time at all! |
| You messed up."
|
| The hot sun was covered with snow. |
| Water poured from the sky, but it was dry.
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| How it is? |
| We are not birds, without wings, but we run away in airports.
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| Fast and furious, then deceleration. |
| Screeching creaking swings, long blizzards cheerful whistle.
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| The plants are sad, the foliage turned yellow for a reason. |
| Now, whining, falls down.
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| Cloudy weather. |
| Autumn day.
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| We'll wait it out in the intoxicating pool.
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| In it, you touch the bottom with your feet,
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| And in drunken dreams we dream of an ocean of dreams.
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| In it I swim to you, holding my breath and in clear water.
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| We will return home from the stuffy prison.
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| One day, we will all be a little sad for what we thought was invented
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| the world.
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| Having chosen for themselves a wild wasteland, a miracle was humiliated in the heart of a person.
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| The dawn will fall on the house, the curtains will burn, but it is already difficult to penetrate into the eyes
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| These old devils and shine are not observed, we will forever remain those
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| who even tries
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| To try to take away from the rough world the emotions that once sparkled in others
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| proportions.
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| Without a murmur, they skillfully ruled, and then, realizing that they had robbed themselves.
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| Went away, without them, only people of different faces, who are exactly the same inside
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| exactly.
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| In a chic body, as in an empty dish, a golden heart beats like an iron pendulum.
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| That gold has a ridiculous price. |
| The silent scene foreshadows an empty ending.
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| The candles are out! |
| You are looking for how to drive away longing, tormenting the rivers of wounded forearms.
|
| Subsequently, we are being treated for gray masses. |
| There are more and more of them;
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| they don't heal us
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| But they only tease! |
| Our bright, but not long
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| holiday.
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| The soul was reborn into scum, and everyone dreams of repeating that very first time.
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| He looks out of the puddle, his gray eyes are empty; |
| and still represents the ocean of dreams.
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| In it I swim to you, holding my breath and in clear water.
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| We will return home from the stuffy prison. |