REALITY OF MY DEATH
About whatever or with whatever
To whoever or with whoever
to say anything or to do
it itself by itself crashes down
as a sleep on the eyelids
of an infinite fatigue’s load
And the step like the cloud
full of rain
Here's how even it, the word
with a pen
drags itself over paper
tusta and tma
And darkness and silence
As when the sleep descends into abysses
And the soul takes The One
To Whom it had always belonged
Then at dawn
Either returns it
Or not return
(Sarajevo, the end of 2016 or beginning of 2017.)
Download attachments:
