19 july 2014
THE END
Lines on forehead are deepening.
No signs of abatement
of fire in our bellies.
The hunger we inherited
is only comforting
the mouthless.
Broken laughs.
Strange bedfellows
chopping off the murals from the lips.
A body rots,
stinks.
Maggots fly.
Negotiations are still on.
Who will dissect the legend
to find the cause of death?
Like a clay model, a soldier breaks.
Satish Verma
10 march 2025
wiesiek
10 march 2025
wiesiek
10 march 2025
Jaga
10 march 2025
absynt
10 march 2025
Eva T.
10 march 2025
Jaga
10 march 2025
ajw
10 march 2025
Marian Banaszak
10 march 2025
jeśli tylko
9 march 2025
absynt