8 sierpnia 2012
SPOTTED IN GLASS
Perfect bridges for a fading light
taking you to dark caves
like fireclay in fake sorrows.
The superstition of a race pool
and unearthing the sacred temple
under a mount of lies.
In vitro a baby god sleeps
waiting for a butcher knife
impaling the hymn on thorns.
A silver lining for a black moon
who refused to walk away.
The stars were frightened and bewildered.
A corporal punishment was waiting
for the sun who neglected
his duty during sundown.
Satish Verma
15 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
15 marca 2025
wiesiek
15 marca 2025
Yaro
15 marca 2025
Yaro
15 marca 2025
absynt
15 marca 2025
absynt
15 marca 2025
absynt
15 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
15 marca 2025
Marek Jastrząb
15 marca 2025
sam53