27 december 2011
Demons
Every last sound,
Resonating as if a shout:
I lay impaired, trapped
Within my own dying mind.
For when the waves
Bring down their punishment
And their poisoned justice,
My tired eyes begin to see
What once was lost:
The last post sounds, and
The tide ebbs away,
Leaving sand so raw
It’s startling.
29 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
27 july 2025
wiesiek
26 july 2025
wiesiek