21 maja 2014
REASONING
There was a portrait under the landscape.
Whispering of clouds,
writhing body and
tense folds.
The sorrows hold out
a veiled threat.
Mortality itself will finish the epic abstraction?
I am not sure, and then the fog rises.
Afraid of flames -
a man was burning alive in inferno,
the red blooms of serial blasts.
A hairy bigfoot runs through the passions.
The fractured faith scatters wild words
like childhood screams.
The very living was night of kills
a freedom in movement of time.
Satish Verma
30 marca 2026
absynt
30 marca 2026
Sorrowhead (ex Cheval)
30 marca 2026
Sorrowhead (ex Cheval)
29 marca 2026
wiesiek
29 marca 2026
absynt
29 marca 2026
absynt
29 marca 2026
guccilittlepiggy
29 marca 2026
Sorrowhead (ex Cheval)
28 marca 2026
sam53
28 marca 2026
violetta