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
23 sierpnia 2025
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ais
22 sierpnia 2025
smokjerzy
22 sierpnia 2025
sam53
21 sierpnia 2025
Yaro
20 sierpnia 2025
jesienna70
20 sierpnia 2025
smokjerzy
20 sierpnia 2025
Bezka
19 sierpnia 2025
absynt
19 sierpnia 2025
sam53