Night dyes its hair by Vladimir Marku

I’d give all my
written words away

I’d donate all
my beautiful metaphors

All my figures
of speech

My rhyme

My free verses

My assonance

My allegories

I’d give away

All the yet
unwritten words

My silence

Its space

All my
punctuation marks

And spelling
errors

I’d give away

All my
between-the-line messages

To see her
bright face

But, in this
crazy epoch

When even the
night

Dyes its hair

This remains
just a dream.

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