19 kwietnia 2024
The Voyager
A forgotten truth
lands softly on the wet grass.
I had lost the words.
The moon was cut on
table to taste the honey of
towering love.
The hidden face
in womb of the earth smiles
in darkness of pain.
19 kwietnia 2024
A forgotten truth
lands softly on the wet grass.
I had lost the words.
The moon was cut on
table to taste the honey of
towering love.
The hidden face
in womb of the earth smiles
in darkness of pain.
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