9 august 2015
Carried My Father Unside
Mirror to mirror
a face floated in anguish
the mourning was deep
whenever inquest for truth was made.
Was it so terrible?
I cannot read the human face.
We were so used
to wear the masks.
Stoned and deaf,
fuzzy kiss of death levels the ferocious peak.
The nameless murder
of truth got a reward.
Garden of strange foliage
slurred on a song.
A metaphysical experience
sniffs the life.
Chained to the probity of the city
I bowed my head.
Reluctant to move in a procession of ugly months.
Lifetime’s nostalgia lifted a veil.
No sleep will descend.
I still carry
my father inside.
16 november 2024
1611wiesiek
16 november 2024
Collective LossSatish Verma
15 november 2024
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15 november 2024
Wielki BratJaga
15 november 2024
In Your Own TempleSatish Verma
14 november 2024
0005.
14 november 2024
0004.
13 november 2024
Słońce w wielkim mieścieJaga
13 november 2024
0003.
13 november 2024
1311wiesiek