Father, I do not hear your words
As in quiet space and black nightI am.
Where is your discipline?
Gone non-existent.
Father, I do not see your love.
A vagabond heartless, lacking warmth I am.
Your creation, broken shattered.
Father, I do not feel your tenderness.
As in whiteness of coarse rock, rejected I am.
The rain falls, limestone crumbled.
Father, I do not smell your maleness.
The 'Oldspice' of a substitute, a product of such I am.
A surrogate on trial, imposter unreal.
Father, where is your strength?
It was used up for I am.
You gave it away.
The spawn of your existence,
The seed of your lineage.
Who are you?
To me nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem