7 stycznia 2016
Non Real
My brothers killed me for a song
an antithesis to kiss for a chaste tree.
I hold my viscera in cupped palms.
Their eyes burn like flaming windows.
An evening primrose smiles at my stupidity.
Questions have no full stop, I grieve.
Why did they punish me, for my lone voice?
I die daily amidst the barbed
Hawthorns for the sake of posterity.
The ribbed cage of desolation, in the kingdom of potencies.
The innocence drops like,
a terrified mirror on floor.
Death will obliterate, the lights from blue eyes.
I adored a dream, which always stayed in shadows,
The moon will grab a cloud,
creating a music of eternity.
The non-real will become a solid absolute.
1 lipca 2025
wiesiek
1 lipca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
30 czerwca 2025
ajw
28 czerwca 2025
sam53
28 czerwca 2025
Arsis
28 czerwca 2025
violetta
28 czerwca 2025
dobrosław77
28 czerwca 2025
Istar
27 czerwca 2025
Yaro
27 czerwca 2025
Jaga