Samonios 21

Between stalks of grassPhosphorescent greenIn a dark clearingWith air cold as glass Hear the sound of bonesClicking with the chillStarting a quiet drillLike ossicle stones You mustBewareOf theFact thatAppearance is not always truth my friend Behind the cold gravesShady shapes in brownHoods are kneeling downWith lamenting waves See the parias’ tearsFalling for citiesWhose hypocrisiesHave burnt … Continue reading Samonios 21