Thunder

There will be thunder then. Remember me.
Say - She asked for storms.- The entire
world will turn the colour of crimson stone,
and your heart, as then, will turn to fire.

That day, in Moscow, a true prophecy,
when for the last time I say goodbye,
soaring to the heavens that I longed to see,
leaving my shadow here in the sky.

Anna Akhmatova The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.