a preamble on genocide
war of tongues besides myself
pretty flies in the air of july
i saw the train pass the fence by
by mark they killed him
to set your stone on the nation of man
i will kill this bliss of masters
making beautiful wonders in ages of hate
kiss me on my chapped, bleeding lips
and make a machine of me
wonder on the sunder of fall
autumn leaves crumble beneath weight
a faint lie of a forgotten saint
sleep on the cold floor
make this your eternal tomb
CZYTASZ
if not human
Poezjathe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
