6 february 2017
Body Script
Does it stir you,
a body bag?
Journey of million years
stops here,
decoding the numbers.
A humming bird
inflight catches a dilemma
before the sun sets on the
whirring wings.
The moon will never be the same.
Hanging by a thread
a suicide bomber memorializes
the unhealing land.
Who will cry
when he is gone?
29 november 2024
2911wiesiek
29 november 2024
0026absynt
28 november 2024
IkarJaga
28 november 2024
2811wiesiek
28 november 2024
0025absynt
28 november 2024
0024absynt
28 november 2024
bo jak wtedy jest nas wszędzieEva T.
27 november 2024
0023absynt
27 november 2024
0022absynt
27 november 2024
Jedno pióro jest ptakiemEva T.