Poezja

Don't give words to
thoughts. Terror begins.

Your painful past turns to future,
of live skeletons.
What life will give to me,
when I am getting
ready for long journey?

Collecting peacock
blue to write your name
on the trunks.

Moon nods,
I ask for a favour to
make me sleep in moonless night.

The silence speaks
in humility. Nothing was left
to have a meaning.

From the temple deity
disappears.