13 february 2013
FROM LIDS
a facsimile of torture
candlelit in moony dark
i want to unread the anointed death
on this tip of an arrow,
here it comes
the hissed phrase
wrenching the gut –
for conceptual withdrawl,
dawn of dark secrets
without footprints of echo
extracting a price,
do not stop fighting,
smear me with blood
hot spurts of thrills to defend the pink
in valley of counterfeits blades,
the green was fake,
the red was fake,
pure white poison
Satish Verma
24 january 2025
24.01wiesiek
24 january 2025
Klaudiaajw
24 january 2025
Relaksajw
23 january 2025
Jowitaajw
23 january 2025
2301wiesiek
23 january 2025
jesieńBezka
23 january 2025
***supełek.z.mgnień
23 january 2025
Tip Toe Through The Tulips.Eva T.
23 january 2025
Nikiajw
22 january 2025
....wiesiek