25 kwietnia 2016
Laughing Skull
Name was more beautiful than the face.
It was charisma of night.
A dream without the eyes.
Laughing skull on the road
opens a wound,
and dying footprints were neither consenting
nor refusing.
A faticity clamps the flow of blood,
I was counting the stitches,
somewhere the pain was reappearing.
Interpersonal hate had a story to tell:
greed, anger and bullets.
The legs were chopped off from truth.
He was not faithful to sun.
In my heart lies a trapped river.
Its history is old, its water was humble.
Uncontaminated was the knock on the door
to a melting of white snow.
22 lutego 2025
Marek Jastrząb
21 lutego 2025
sam53
21 lutego 2025
wiesiek
21 lutego 2025
Eva T.
21 lutego 2025
Bezka
21 lutego 2025
wolnyduch
21 lutego 2025
wolnyduch
21 lutego 2025
Atanazy Pernat
21 lutego 2025
Bezka
21 lutego 2025
ajw