14 lutego 2016
Moon Rise
Like burning coals on the tongue
the words smoulder the ardour.
I cannot pursue a thought of untruth
for sake of remainin alive.
The water hole is dry, we turn back
from poetry and greens,
heading towards onother cul-de-sac.
A fear mocks at the face.
About being a human failure preparing
to admit the defeat.
Despair will decide the path!
I always adored a struggle for reality
calmly choosing the self-denial.
Secretly I weave a memory of moon rise
in pitch darkness.
25 listopada 2025
Anthony DiMichele
25 listopada 2025
Anthony DiMichele
25 listopada 2025
sam53
25 listopada 2025
sam53
25 listopada 2025
Jaga
25 listopada 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
24 listopada 2025
wiesiek
23 listopada 2025
wiesiek
23 listopada 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
23 listopada 2025
sam53