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
24 february 2026
wiesiek
23 february 2026
Jaga
23 february 2026
wiesiek
22 february 2026
wiesiek
22 february 2026
jeśli tylko
21 february 2026
wiesiek
21 february 2026
wiesiek
20 february 2026
Jaga
19 february 2026
wiesiek
17 february 2026
wiesiek