Sometimes I throw
A blinded flurry
Of vindications
And salutations.
Hate eats
Love
The demons
Send the gods
And the consciences
To slumber
The wind coils
The trees in
A topple
The stones steal
The reticence
Of the stars
The nights
Flabbergast the
Dawn
Winter ridicules
The summer
And even the
Autumnal sigh
Of the foliage
Is besmirched
By your heart.
Grief devours
Bliss and its
Avenues
War ignites
The fire that
Would incinerate
The tranquil state
The icicles of
Solitude bereft
Of redemption
Shamble away
Into respite.
Women
Killing men,
Men
Violating women
Children dying in
Alleys and
Wombs
Love and its poignancy
Trifled with contempt
And sin
The laughter
Of the populace
Delivers me into
A sad susurration
Of my body
Upon this very bed.
I am
Eating
Myself
In
This
Process
Of
A
Loneliness
So
Deadly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem