Question Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
Question
Rating: ★5.0
the seventh sense of fear
is sprinkling my forehead
of inner power
and like the dew is floating
at deep times of the reflection
paralysing the wrinkle
on the frozen face stigmatized
with silent terror of the heart
is these already death
or only illness?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
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8/28/2026 12:21:45 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
That's life. Very good.