14 february 2016
Moon Rise
Like burning coals on the tongue
the words smoulder the ardour.
I cannot pursue a thought of untruth
for sake of remainin alive.
The water hole is dry, we turn back
from poetry and greens,
heading towards onother cul-de-sac.
A fear mocks at the face.
About being a human failure preparing
to admit the defeat.
Despair will decide the path!
I always adored a struggle for reality
calmly choosing the self-denial.
Secretly I weave a memory of moon rise
in pitch darkness.
25 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
wiesiek
24 august 2025
absynt
24 august 2025
absynt
23 august 2025
wiesiek
18 august 2025
Jaga
16 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt