A Dark Horse Over the Mountain

/, Blesok no. 08/A Dark Horse Over the Mountain

A Dark Horse Over the Mountain

Checking the Last Manuscript
Midnight. Dead Point
The Morgue
Dark Is the Night, Liebe Maria
A Dark Horse Over the Mountain
What We Have Within
Heaviness
Immovable Things

And I too, one of them
in this dark room:

I breathe. The cold
trickles into my corpse:

My last bath. Clenched
palms hold a few bright

beams: I lose
my soul’s support –

I want it to rise:
I see it rise.

AuthorSlave Gjorgjo Dimoski
2018-08-21T17:23:59+00:00 April 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 08|0 Comments