Poezja

After scarring, the big gap 
confronts a mascot. 
The caster is telling a lie. 


Under shock and anger 
you start cursing the renegade truth. 


Black windows now perceive the light. 


Nobody wants to catch the dust now, 
falling from the stars. 


War of words comes to disarming of 
wailing hands. 
I reconcile with the setting sun. 


Back and forth, back and forth 
the unabashed, moves a bridal moon.