borderless lineless shapeless creatures luring in the background of every move made aware even of the stealthiest sleight of hand scurrying away when the lights come on
faceless weightless creatures mirroring every move any other being makes without assertively conveying their true purpose
but
behold the graceless mythical entities capturing the light in the eye of everything living and dying to inflict a sort of an unsuspected emptiness in the core of all victims pulling away with their electromagnetic character the end of all ends nearer to the feet of those who still dare to manifest in flesh and boredom in glamor and deep thought
disrupted, the vine growth increases in naiveté performing the arts of the 'I do not know' and 'the I care not' thus populating every fruit with a false pretense of knowledge and enlightenment
a series of prophetic shadows that word out letter after letter the secret recipe for total destruction
let this be known
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem