A killer Poet
Tonight I joined the world of killers…
The pen is there broken into two pieces
My blood is mixed with the flesh of my poems…
Where are you going in this cold relation?
It is the first time I see the moon wearing a dress of depression
The river in the village of my future is no more clear
I am not stopping anymore on the red light
Somewhere, somehow, somebody
Will soon feel the massacre I did to the beauty of the universe
And will try to save what is left of me as a poet! ! ! !
Wael Karameh.
October 4,2009.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The somewhere, somehow, somebody is your inner self and you will warm the cold relation and mend the pen of poetry, and the judge will aquit the killler poet ...and we will all live happy ever after..your outburst is noted....very good regards