22 listopada 2014
A Sunny Wait...
Young days start with a nostalgia
for a lost freedom
Anxiety was the prime suspect.
As the age moves on,
truth consumes the virtue.
I hold this insult
in the throes of conscience with tears.
The dreams did not last long
in the wild eyes of geniuses.
Grace and dignity fell short of sinners.
The prince of blackness strode
on the white souls.
I could not have been a witness
of paradox.
Lacked in the old books
I still wait on the highway
for a sun to climb the hill.
Satish Verma
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
7 lutego 2026
Toya
7 lutego 2026
Yaro
7 lutego 2026
sam53