9 november 2024
To End The Poem
When you walk
on moon in February, I take-down
the clouds to become wet.
Your memory lingers.
I gather the monarchs to
play with my past.
I am not sure, when
the dark moves on to give space
to imprisoned pain.
16 august 2025
wiesiek
16 august 2025
wiesiek
15 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
13 august 2025
wiesiek
13 august 2025
absynt