Poezja

Arising before the dawn, 
to meet the earth, 
your honeymoon was over with innocent. 
 
You start becoming extinct, 
with stained excuses. Naked as a belief. 
 
There was no contradiction. 
 
An imitation will take over, 
for the surreal tomb. 
 
A gift of rain will fill the bowl 
left for Buddha, who was still sleeping 
with eyes half-open. 
 
A sage grouse begins the mating dance. 
 
Can you speak for the scars? They 
promised to remain mute.