18 may 2024
Misty Memories
Grey air. I will come to myself, igniting
the fire. When will be ground reality known?
Standing on the cusp of pain.
It was not a legitimised, valorused decision.
When you will leave the things as
they are. I tossed the new born thoughts.
Great walls were crumbling
unfolding the ugly ephemeral cults.
Who gnaws my poems? Don't search
my unuttered words for your maturation.
24 march 2025
ajw
24 march 2025
ajw
23 march 2025
wiesiek
23 march 2025
ajw
22 march 2025
wiesiek
22 march 2025
absynt
22 march 2025
ajw
22 march 2025
ajw
21 march 2025
absynt
21 march 2025
absynt