В чем же моя вина (Лирика / стихи о любви)

Лед не  тает  и не  горит ,                                                                                               Если  в душе  зима.                                                                                                             Сердце каменное  не болит,                                                                                   Так , в  чем  же  моя  вина?                                                                                          Что  пустоту не  смогла  сберечь,                                                                              Иллюзий  мосты сожгла,                                                                   Золу   развеяла  по  ветру                                                                                            Так, в чем  же  моя  вина?                                                                                      Сбросила  с шеи твоей  тяжкий  груз,                                                                  Ноша была  тяжела.                                                                                                И  распустила  узлы  обуз ,                                                                                      Так,  в чем  же  моя  вина?                                                                                        Я  не  смогла  растопить,  согреть                                                                        Серый  камень  и лед                                                                                             И не  сумела  огонь  разжечь                                                                               Из  трухи , что  гниет.                                                                                                   Теперь  прости  ...и  посмотри.....                                                                        Какая  в  сердце  боль?...                                                                                          Когда  на  лицах    лишь  тоска,   а  на  душе  покой.                                      Ты не  ругай   и не  кори.                                                                                            Какая   в  этом  суть?...                                                                                                Когда от глаз  бегут  глаза....                                                                                  И  каждого  ждет  свой  путь.