15 lipca 2016
Question, Answer
You have nibbled and eaten raw
scratching by nails
talking of a pink rose syndrome
under the corona of soft spikes.
Someone talks to you in your brain
guiding you to guillitone.
Life was not worth any meaning,
when questions were none.
No one to resume, isolate green
from the grains of empty desires.
Your hand travels from thorn to thorn
to reach the unrelenting fires.
Made of eccentric obsessions
your house is far away. I smell
the yellow leaves falling, one by one.
It is still dark, with no moon.
Question will become one day, the answer.
The answer will never be the answer
We will remain confused, unclear
about the question and the answer.
16 października 2025
sam53
15 października 2025
wiesiek
15 października 2025
Jaga
15 października 2025
Jaro
14 października 2025
wiesiek
14 października 2025
ais
13 października 2025
sam53
13 października 2025
Jaga
13 października 2025
Yaro
13 października 2025
sam53