5 october 2019
A Hanging Tale
Your hands tremble,
when you accept―
the cup of hemlock.
Not like Socrates,
who described the ascending bane
paralyzingly.
Art of letting it go―
was inherent. Exogamy.
The root population grows.
I have come to take
your hand, O death,
out of caste.
You tell me,
it was out of turn,
to stitch the black wound.
The howling was persistent―
Moon was not yet sighted.
22 october 2025
ajw
22 october 2025
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21 october 2025
Jaga
21 october 2025
wiesiek
20 october 2025
wiesiek
20 october 2025
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20 october 2025
ajw
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20 october 2025
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19 october 2025
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