December - Ник Ефремов

Again they’re flying.

The birds inside my heart,

Today i am trying,

To cut them all apart.

So clear around me,

And deafening silence of

The world.

And i am,

Just want to cut them off.

So close to fear,

Too far from clear mind,

I hold my sea

In shores that i have found.

Again.

They’re flying.

So close to cloud,

Too far from clear sun,

My sea so loud,

It makes my ear stunned,

Again.

My frosen sea

Again.

They’re flying.