7 september 2015
Gift Of Love
Between the blue eyes,
wind smeared a hot kiss
on forehead of moon.
There were no half-brothers to watch.
Swarms of thoughts descended
in zero hour of night.
Sadness was beyond threshold
a crucial insult to the arrival of time.
Now I was not going anywhere
I was afraid of myself.
The centre was disappearing,
in the statements of truth.
Pleas are falling apart in
global freezing, of collective brain.
I start sifting through the leaves
a gift of love, my fruit.
28 september 2024
2809wiesiek
27 september 2024
Zapachniało powiewem jesieni,Eva T.
27 september 2024
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26 september 2024
Wyblakła miłość.Eva T.
26 september 2024
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Incomplete ThoughtsSatish Verma
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Usiłowałem liczyć owce,Eva T.
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To Tell The TruthSatish Verma