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

Dark is the night, Liebe Maria,
I hear it tremble. Black
is the water that runs through my
fingers. You are black. The night

shivers incessantly. It takes you
and brings you back. The night
moves. It transforms you
into dust that I inhale.

It turns you into a great wing
that flutters on the horizon
and becomes a point,
Liebe Maria.

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