Here I am, in a dark alley, 
Hiding from the blind and keeping my lips, 
Sealed so the deaf won’t listen, 
Listen to who I am, or see who I am.
Yet here I am, 
In this dark alley renting religion, 
From a priest in secrecy.
In secrecy so my lips won’t burn, 
From the scriptures I so wish to speak in foreign ears.
In secrecy so my body will not be torn, 
And fed to the lechers who once spoke, 
What I chose to speak.
Yet here I am letting my tongue dance, 
Dance to the belief we all worship the same god.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    