Rigorism

My hearth

Rigorism
When evening is so gloomy gray,
No less then my sad soul,
I start compare it with a day.
It warms my heart - a piece of coal+

Yea, my heart's coal! It's hardened, black,
It's cold as stone
But borne to burn with sparks and crack+
And to be lone+

There's something more I've got to tell
I've dug it under earth.
It's gift, done by the King of Hell,
The creature being cursed.

We are the one, with common heart.
It's cold as stone! It's hardened, black,
It lets our mind to be smart,
But borne to burn with sparks and crack+

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