Thunder by Anna Akhmatova

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.

by Anna Akhmatova

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Requiem

Solitude

The Sentence

Twenty-First. Night. Monday

Under Her Dark Veil

You Thought I Was That Type

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