The spell is broken.
The bewitching wand turns
To wood.
Paralyzed slumber
Of years lifts an eyelid
And sees into the dark subterfuge.
There is a hint of spring in December.
A breach in the overcast
Reveals a newborn David,
Firing sure slingshot
Into Goliath’s heart.
Hope seems no longer in vain.
The Republic breathes again.
ZNetwork jest finansowany wyłącznie dzięki hojności swoich czytelników.
Darowizna