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очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей
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Follow your heart
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Destiny lingered in quiet guise,
In midnight’s hush, where silence lies.
A tempest churned within the soul,
Its surging tide beyond control.
It swept through memories, love, and pain,
And left behind its quiet stain.
The moon, a sentinel of dreams,
Hung low to catch the heart’s extremes.
Its light, though faint, revealed the way,
Through tangled thoughts and fleeting day.
For in the night, when all seems still,
The mind resounds, its voice will fill
The empty spaces we once fled,
And truths arise where silence led.
BY THE SHORE
“You are different, as I am—blue, green, deep, light, shining, strong… but never wrong, ocean. My soul is the ocean. And only with you, with your fierce winds and boundless power, do I feel calm. The sea holds confessions no land can bear. It whispers truths, carries burdens, and drowns regrets.”
By the shore, beneath the moon’s embrace,
A bottle drifted—a timeless trace.
The waves, relentless, sang their song,
Of broken paths and where I belong.
Perhaps the hour has now begun,
To bare my truth beneath the sun.
A letter scrawled with trembling hand,
To plead, to mourn, to understand.
“Forgive me,” I wrote, “my final plea,
For sins unspoken, lost at sea.
For tarnished love, once pure and bright,
Now swallowed whole by endless night.
Forgive my restless, reckless ways,
The wounds I left, the debt that stays.
Forgive the words, sharp as the tide,
Born of despair I could not hide.
Forgive my doubt, my fleeting trust,
The dreams reduced to windswept dust.
Forgive the paths I walked in gloom,
The bridges burned, the seeds of doom.
Forgive the years that passed in haze,
The shadowed nights, the empty days.
And yet, forgive me not, if you cannot,
For I am lost—a soul forgot.”
I sealed the note with trembling breath,
And cast it to the waves of death.
The ocean claimed it, pulled it deep,
To cradle truths I could not keep.
Yet in the stillness, hope remained,
A fragile thread, though faint, sustained.
That somewhere, far beyond this shore,
Life waits, renewed, forevermore.
THE BULLET FLEW TWICE OVER
“I love reading the news, but it must be true—something rare in a world where truth is elusive. What does truth mean? Does it have boundaries? Can it exist always, yet shift in different realities? For lawyers, truth is a weapon and a shield, wielded in the arena of reason and evidence. But truth, in its rawest form, is neither kind nor forgiving. The weight of violence lingers long after the shot is fired, staining the soul with echoes of what cannot be undone.”
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Последний отзыв
очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей