20 czerwca 2014
PRIDE OF VALLEY
When the battle lines were drawn,
the only mandate
for the human torpedo was to blow up
the silence of time.
Sick was the death-struck
new born, praise of the ghost of tiger
in the name of glory of green eyes.
The orange moon was absolutely naked;
the snow dripped in a cave to form a cone
and the valley was burning wide.
The bag of charcoal given
to a shephered had turned into gold-
nuggets at home. The vultured sky
was claiming more bodies.
A miracle was swelling the crowd
and the crown was proud of deaths.
Satish Verma
10 lutego 2026
Jaga
10 lutego 2026
nieRuda
10 lutego 2026
sam53
9 lutego 2026
wiesiek
8 lutego 2026
wiesiek
8 lutego 2026
sam53
8 lutego 2026
sam53
7 lutego 2026
sam53
7 lutego 2026
wiesiek
7 lutego 2026
violetta