1 january 2020
Too Crowded Was Arena
I felt you, through your
words. Tight and
crisp. But you remained untouchable.
For thousand of years
a lity of valley
cried, to get a dove's cooing voice.
The musk deer will not
leave its domain. Some
poems were hungery of its hideout.
An ordinary day of fall
starts the inferno. Syllable
by syllable in colors.
The dilemma of drinking
the hemlock at one go.
How would I describe the ascending paralysis?
22 april 2024
2204wiesiek
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek
21 april 2024
Picking RelicsSatish Verma
20 april 2024
To Dying MuseSatish Verma
19 april 2024
The VoyagerSatish Verma
18 april 2024
ItinerantSatish Verma
17 april 2024
Nim kur zapiejeJaga
17 april 2024
Between Done And UndoneSatish Verma