Poezja

Dying daily
without touching you.
A panther plays―
with a fawn and then eats him.

The mode of living
is changing. I rise with
sun and fall with moon.

Read me in your
palms and recite the
prayer to belongingness.

Ah, all the miseries
were coming on surface.
Who failed the religion,
the fidelity?

You don't want to
come near end. Will aesthetics
save you?