vineri, 30 octombrie 2015

poetic creed

allow me
to pass

by rivers of illusions

,, born and not made ​​,,

trapped on shore

the great of defeats

allow me oblivion

stiflng silance
in bones
of silence

and that miracle

still
raises the eyelid

She would not believe

any soul forward with hands

connected by a wall

my body warm

certain offerining

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murmurul viorii

mâinile mele au amorțit pe arcușul viorii las murmur de stol în drumul rătăcirii chiar glezna mi se frânge a strigăt înăbușit pe țăr...