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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