Thursday, September 30, 2010

How To Open A Smoke Alarm

My first poem in the life of a suicidal

Apogee


pagan hordes
condemned forever They're coming through the gates of hell, into the depths of the underworld
to stand before the throne of the black souls

sold, destroyed body
memory extends no longer
Like the old days for us
Cool breeze on a hot day rain

Filled with pain, the sadness zeżarci
FOR IN cursed people, only the shadows ...

Under the black banner we
Now is our time, the apogee of evil once a beautiful country

flooded with blood burns!

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