7 lutego 2016
Some Question Marks
Don’t go brutal in the veins
blood is diluted
life has become complex.
Barefoot truth walks,
in the sun without shadows.
We are beaten by lies.
The caste aside had a carnal thrust,
and the stars were weeping.
I will die of a primordial death one day.
What is the central theme, of present life?
It has no nuances, only the numerical strength of passions.
Question marks are leaving,
an omnipresent stink everywhere.
An awakening without,
a flame does not inspire
a hidden defeat of haloed touchstone.
I will go for a swim,
in the dead sea to taste,
the salt of all the white moons.
How would our forefathers
know the masks?
10 marca 2025
Marian Banaszak
10 marca 2025
jeśli tylko
9 marca 2025
jeśli tylko
9 marca 2025
Trepifajksel
9 marca 2025
absynt
9 marca 2025
absynt
9 marca 2025
Yaro
9 marca 2025
sam53
9 marca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
8 marca 2025
wiesiek