Lost world
The silent words of world decaying And people long forgotten, Have heard the lonely Angel’s pray. I heard the words we couldn’t say And those ones we cannot utter still. Those humans’ prayers never said In silence to our God; and graces For the food we’ve had today. We live in small, sad cities, Where merchants do not sell Good goods… Oh no, They don’t even sell the rags. Where thugs don’t drink the booze And never go to abuse for more. And servants in the mansions Don’t wanna do their duties well. They do not sell. And do not do it well, The city breathes lives of poor and sad. The seed was sown long ago, And each of us has come to be What everyone is used to call a man. And every single word we didn’t say Of some poor reasons and excuses Have turned into bad visions Of different and sorrow seasons. Of so many different illusions…
Дмитрий Жуков
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