A lie
that fries my brain
incapable
to handle
the actions
in_ deeds
like bad seeds
emerging
in urging,
stringing out
the good,
misunderstood
the wonder
of life
a pierced
old dark blanket,
a big black Why
for us, for We
a Canopy
of consciousness.
Madrason 3e week april 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem