Forgive me mother,
For your dearest is gone and I stay.
Forgive me Father,
For your dearest has fallen and I stand.
Forgive me sisters,
For we couldn't even take your bodies away from the deamons.
Forgive me brothers,
For the bullets got to you and I got away.
Forgive me the blind,
For I can see.
Forgive me the killed,
For I am not.
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 11:45 AM UTC
Floating on the sea of blood,
We have sewed our eyes on the sky.
Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 4:09 PM UTC
My darling boy
Where are you in this hell
Paved by bodies
All in black bags
Until the end of horizon
Cannot digest the image
Loads of flesh
Why some are so small?
Oh no
That cannot be
Some bodies are out
They did not have enough bags
Deafening cries
Shattering shrieks
My voice drowns
In tears of mothers
Oh my dear son
Where is your voice?
Must find you again
Must look at all the faces
Endless faces
My baby boy
Will I remember yours,
By the time I get to you?
Dissolving in the air
Dissolving in disbelief
Where to place my foot,
Among the lost souls?
New trucks are coming?
How many bodies? How many?
Children of my people
One is shot from the back
One shot in her head
That one shot in his pure heart
Son, will you have your face?
Will I see you one last time?
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 5:26 AM UTC
My fellow poets
I am still alive
In my blood bath of a country
But many many many aren't
Oh the massacre
Oh the horror
Oh the excruciating pain
of losing dear ones
Young ones
Old ones
Teenagers
Children
I don't know who can save us
I don't know how
I just beg everyone
To do whatever they can
To prevent from smothering
The voice of blood
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 3:05 PM UTC
Once again, a celebration here;
decorated by fire,
and the uproar chants a hymn.
You, too, who sit above,
this time,
come join the people as a guest;
it seems the wine
of grapes of wrath
has matured.
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 3:25 AM UTC
Do not question our disheveled psyche;
We are children of the land—
Who breathes chaos,
And is nourished
By blood.
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 4:13 PM UTC
An insufferable pain it is—
To miss,
But not to be missed.
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 1:49 PM UTC
On the corner of the niche
Where those lovers used to sit
A swallow has died
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 1:42 PM UTC
They will always lurk behind
In the shadows of the mind
Waiting patiently for times
When some happiness you find
Once again they will appear
All the somber gloomy fear
Once again the sordid woe
Fills your eyes with runing tear
Dec 26, 2025
Dec 26, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
Once in a while
Come and visit—
I will be right here,
Behind the glass
Of my own skin.
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 2:34 PM UTC