Hover Mode Poem by Lev Brekhman
Hover Mode
A Fate, as such, does not exist.
The world, of course, lies around
Your life - a tiniest blue mist.
Where is your life-line to be found?
All blows, all the cherry-pies,
They come or not, you wait and wonder,
Indifferent, above hang skies -
Until the last, all-comprehending thunder.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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5/3/2024 4:07:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
