BUD OF DREAMS

I am as a boulevard of all my broken dreams...

Where the mountains of rocks are right under two my wings,

Where the overwhelmed love did never want to fit me...

Now I feel I am fading as a bird ...away, so tiny.

When I flew over my lines of the all summer horizons,

And gave all my brightness to the sunrise in the mornings...

In the all my flight projects I have flown over denials:

In the wings of spring I was bloom!- just bud of dream.

At autumn I was flower with leaves in my heart!

Like defloliate bird just tired on all sky stations!

When the winter came cool like snow...i was great art

Of being dreams in verses ...my poetry in legation...

Nowadays I get old over my greatest and faded dreams!

In the bud I cut all of them, as well as the wings of my living.