Poezja

Home coming
was not true. A character
remained unread.

What image was
holy? You walk barefoot
after worship to listen
the voices of earth.

The volcano weeps
for centuries, waking
the flames one day. What
were the questions
which had no answers.

A pink bandana
becomes the heartache
of moon. No star was
worthy of you.

The book wipes out the
new sermons.