Northern path
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The god of the pleasure of comfort is withdrawn by my hand and for the soul of the human vice, suddenly, the poem, not a prayer, not the psalm, here every secret will suddenly reveal the prayer and immediately suddenly, the liar will be translated by the liar Satrap Bandit and maybe even a cry will wipe off the pain inside the chest and then the light is only ahead then peace and silence and only rhyme only knocks on the heart in unison that it was in the past as if a dream melts a gray wall and everyone will understand that life alone should not lie to be able to smash in harmony with everyone to live, that there is a book there is one two thousand years old My verse come to her at least at the sunset of your days I don’t scold me very much, I just wrote you, you know this
Author:
Author:Popov Igor
Cover:
Cover:Soft
Category:
- Category:Children's Book
- Category:Fiction
- Category:Modern Literature
- Category:Poetry & Literature
Publication language:
Publication Language:Russian
Paper:
Paper:Offset
ISBN:
ISBN:978-5-6042456-0-6
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