18 april 2023
The Myth Of Truths
After you gave me a
split rupture,
there was a mirror pain.
The bruises get away
without mercy. A hand will
write reversely a poem.
You cannot erase
the stink, which comes from
the mouthless words.
And the triangle
will eat the floating bodies
of bloated dreams.
Who always chased
me with subtlety, when
hills were crumbling.
Moon becomes lunatic.
28 march 2024
It Is Getting DarkSatish Verma
27 march 2024
NarcyzJaga
27 march 2024
2703wiesiek
27 march 2024
To były piękne dniabsynt
27 march 2024
Drobiazgi.Eva T.
27 march 2024
Wearing The Crown Of ThornsSatish Verma
26 march 2024
Margo5absynt
26 march 2024
2603wiesiek
26 march 2024
Good ByeSatish Verma
25 march 2024
NaturalnieJaga