The blood dripped
The blood dripped ( in memory of great Russian poet Alexander Pushkin, who died on duel)
The blood dripped on the snow
Drawing red roses on the virginity of it
The duel was short , one missed , one deadly wounded
Laying helplessly in the cold embrace
Drawing red roses on the virginity of it
The duel was short , one missed , one deadly wounded
Laying helplessly in the cold embrace
He was provoked, pushed into trap
The jealousy blinded otherwise sharp mind of poet
His wife, his flower kissed by some low life , not that
The thinking, the irrational response got better over
The jealousy blinded otherwise sharp mind of poet
His wife, his flower kissed by some low life , not that
The thinking, the irrational response got better over
The blood swirled in the continuous flow
The eyes curtailed by the foggy introspection
Mistaking silver shining of the snowflakes for sunshine
Whole life appeared been mistake, rhetorical question
The eyes curtailed by the foggy introspection
Mistaking silver shining of the snowflakes for sunshine
Whole life appeared been mistake, rhetorical question
The poet faded into near death coma
Spitting the words , last words for the future generations
Confessing to the lady Muse, i was the soldier of the poetry
In fact remaining soldier of the love..the death claimed him
Spitting the words , last words for the future generations
Confessing to the lady Muse, i was the soldier of the poetry
In fact remaining soldier of the love..the death claimed him
by Margaret Gudkov
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