Poezja

Do not knock out the water from the eyes, 
each dropp is temple 
each dropp is death. 
 
Veins were becoming darker 
friends disappeared overnight. 
A family comes to squat on grass 
to scrape the souls of forefathers. 
 
I become puzzled of failed truths, 
of guilty nasturtiums fashioned on graves 
gathering the human failures. 
 
The deeds and the theatrical prisons 
of homes. Anguish and sorrow. 
Learning - sucks the beautiful 
scarves of splashed deceits. 
 
Into the future you move, 
glory or doom? No certain payments. 
You have not forgotten the false commitments.