14 listopada 2012
TORCHES
It was a big trauma.
Granary went overboard,
my boat was torpedoed.
No romance was left now.
At the burial of the moon
aliens were arriving.
You do not want to call it a genocide.
The massacre of millions, of children
and women. The civil war was inside you,
not in the homes of innocents. A god
falls on the rail-tracks to commit
suicide. His severed limbs I would not see.
I want to close the window,
as the white dove was carrying
dead leaves for a mass grave.
Satish Verma
19 maja 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
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wiesiek
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sam53
18 maja 2025
Marcin Olszewski
18 maja 2025
violetta
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dobrosław77
17 maja 2025
violetta
16 maja 2025
sam53
16 maja 2025
Toya
15 maja 2025
sam53