Константин Бояндин: проза жизни

Solitude,
Thou art always here.
Thy shy presence we hardly notice,
To embrace thee is like eating lotus,
As a shadow, thou art always near.

In a dusk,
Thou shall cure my throes,
Heal my mind of destroyed delusions.
Thy abundance is not profusion,
Thou'rt no foe soul could oppose.

Both in joy
And in sullen grief
Solitude is my safest shelter.
Sweetest waft under stifling swelter,
Soothing dream,
Unsurpassed relief.