Poezja

Not reaching somewhere,
I was not today,
what I was.
 
You seek a hand
for a handshake, and I watch
the dirt gathering
on the nails.
 
Sky does not give you
an award.The soot
collects on the windows.
 
The blue skulls dance
to defy the earth.No forehead
was formed.How would you
read the destiny?
 
I swear, I did not fathered
the deity in a-
monotheist gathering.
A black hijab covers
the moon.