Poezja

Since you knew, ― 
it was going to cast a shadow. 
 
I let the question hang in air. 
Death was known, ― only to man? 
 
My suffering begins today. Adding― 
my two cents, I go wild. Too few 
white blood cells cruising in the veins. 
Like lightning strike― I put myself 
in harm’s way. 
 
Bright yellow― 
the gold and fire, absolutely opaque 
decimating the drooping primula. 
 
Impulsive, ― I raise the lid 
of blazing rage. A divine exposure. 
A millennium melts 
beneath the carpet of snow.