5 lipca 2017
Afterimages
A whisperer with its begging bowl
wants a moon in alms.
A candle burns in panic.
The serpent was sitting in a prayer.
The golden teeth will find the apples
leafless, pleading for a fall.
Stoking the fire, you step on a ghost.
It was a fake, I scream.
Do not tamper the ruins of the tower.
They are going to find the death masks.
19 marca 2025
Yaro
19 marca 2025
ajw
19 marca 2025
ajw
19 marca 2025
ajw
19 marca 2025
eyesOFsoul
18 marca 2025
violetta
18 marca 2025
wiesiek
18 marca 2025
sam53
18 marca 2025
Marek Jastrząb
18 marca 2025
Eva T.