The Exile
The planet blue in orbit flies
in detached depressing space, –
me God expelled from paradise,
I roam in darkness disengaged.
Cast net here, there – all in vain:
I cannot catch the golden fish,
all living things will fade away
in the entire world unleashed.
The planet tilted forward flies;
lie hungry I in the sun`s spot –
me God expelled from paradise,
an` I shall merge with cosmos cold.
Copyright © Oleg Borisov | Year Posted 2012
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