9 marca 2022
Unkindly
Barebones, they come
in droves, to drink blood moon
praying in catacombs.
A summer night sets
over the hills with black eyes. The
cleavers have some jobs to be done.
In perfection, the bodies
should be laid― along with red woods.
The autistic moon will find its lover.
Aborted dawn, the clouds
had covered the womb. The
terrible sun had been roped in.
Earth weeps. There was
no peace.A ghost town rumbles
on. I cannot crack the code.
3 listopada 2025
Arsis
2 listopada 2025
absynt
2 listopada 2025
tetu
2 listopada 2025
wiesiek
2 listopada 2025
ajw
2 listopada 2025
ajw
2 listopada 2025
sam53
2 listopada 2025
sam53
1 listopada 2025
Weronika
1 listopada 2025
wiesiek