4 august 2020
Not The God
A fathomless abyss,
you feel the power of wordless going.
Sperms leave,
when you smell your own blood.
The roasted pig,
or degenerating rhyme.
What would be your pick;
the dopamine?
The serotonin,
the medulla?
The radar will not follow you.
You are alone.
A tiny dot moving on the screen of life.
The morality was at risk,
with no window.
30 november 2025
Jaga
30 november 2025
Jaga
28 november 2025
wiesiek
28 november 2025
Jaga
27 november 2025
wiesiek
26 november 2025
jeśli tylko
26 november 2025
jeśli tylko
26 november 2025
Jaga
26 november 2025
wiesiek
26 november 2025
wiesiek