Climbing each rung of the rotting ladder,
my wishes snapped one by one
The beanstalk looming high above,
its vines blocked out the sun
Grounding my desires and aspirations,
like a bird with broken wings
My hope tried one last blind ascent
—to where the Angel's sing
(Dreamsleep: April,2020)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem