23 listopada 2013
UNRAVELLING
An outcast, stripped and beaten
up, the sickle moon
smears the clouds with blood.
I hate to wait for –
the sun to undo this mess,
an ethnic mutilation will bring a chaos.
Nursing the peripheries,
tribes were in pursuit of bayonets;
will not surrender the arms
to mate.Unceasingly they are
digging up an abysmal grave
to throw in the truths in uniform-
in pursuit of feathers, offering
for temple archways, turning
on the future, for past glory!
Satish Verma
24 grudnia 2025
wiesiek
24 grudnia 2025
sam53
24 grudnia 2025
ais
23 grudnia 2025
wiesiek
23 grudnia 2025
jeśli tylko
22 grudnia 2025
Eva T.
22 grudnia 2025
Marek Jastrząb
22 grudnia 2025
Yaro