7 august 2021
The Nightmare
Had wanted it to happen,
without me.
Remorse was turning against
the self. It was growing very large.
You could feel the enormity of a
suicidal microcosm, enveloping you in its borrowed light―
and rugged terrain.
The peace― it was absolutely absent
in the myriad stars, earthen lamps,
the ethereal beauties of unspoilt hymns.
The spirit was gone. It was all
a floating skeleton of man searching
for the real legs, natural eyes, and
a roving heart.
I wanted to pause, in the penultimate
explosions, when the tornado
dies and I would wake up.
19 march 2024
The Pain Was Not YouSatish Verma
18 march 2024
1802wiesiek
18 march 2024
Ruda na platynowoabsynt
18 march 2024
Art In DyingSatish Verma
17 march 2024
W gotowościJaga
17 march 2024
takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
17 march 2024
I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
1603wiesiek
16 march 2024
tu i teraz, zanurzając sięTomek i Agatka
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz