Cologne of archaic books you sent
Still hold the aroma of your artistic soul
I ambled outta old library and
Peered at the dusty corner of the room.
Even coffee stained empty pages
Reminded me of those days with you
How ink fell on paper like snowfall
Played wonders on cold days in Moscow
Even running clouds in painfully blue sky
Reminded me of those days with you
How comes heavier pages in my diary
Filled with wounds and scars
Even half steamed and half brewed milk
Reminded me of those days with you
How comes strange pages in my diary
Only by the dried honeyed promises
You are the most beautiful nightmare
Chasing the night owl midst dejection.
Pendulum reminds me lullabies of promises.
Damn! I whisper: 'demon kill me softly..'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem