POEM: The Brew
Gulp.
Silence.
He awaits the sacred geometry,
but is greeted by the purge.
Emptied.
Turned inside-out.
All is lost.
Violently vacated.
But then how come
a dragon comes sliding through
a nightmare too entrancing
to be terrifying.
There’s no slither.
Just a silent slide.
It slides, it slides.
On a silent ride.
There are two types of eternity.
Neither is cheap but one is free. Читать дальше...