28 december 2011
Morbid Irony
While I lay here
Staring my fate
Square into obscurity
Left with nothing but promises
Of forgotten grandeur
Leaving behind epic depths
Of visions
Illusions
Confusions, beyond credibility
A string of events one could not forsee
Refusal to uphold unrealistic
And idealistic states of abstraction
Thus bringing us lucid and coherent
Understandings of the truth
Perhaps revealing consummate contentment
No more resentments
Of past discontentment
These vast extents of torments
Preventing one from ascending
Into unending bliss
Where the unmerciful bind you
Overextending
Subdued
21 november 2024
21.11wiesiek
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Światełka listopadaJaga
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Niech deszcz śpiewa ci kołysankę.Eva T.
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Jeden mostJaga
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0011.
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0010.
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0009.
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0008.