I will never fall for dark digital wolfs
that lurk in murky quiet pools
where airy assailants silently die
or
nor for the unoutspoken,
the thought of but not voiced,
the seen but not accepted break
with tradition and all you thought
could make a difference
in wild chambers of no commerce
yes I can see that, but never the less
it is always about someone else
it is always about the call
of the righteous and thus ganged up
with the sullen retribution of all that you miss
and all that you actually thought
was a rite written in a calamity
you don’t accept
even though it is naught
but you, and you, and you…
although
if not for all that you represent
or voice with what all will say or break
in a day’s
violent hearsay
all this would be less
than what a cat
that tails rats in a day’s heart
could bear,
all that one could be
in a tale of righteous rites.
Ok
I am dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Really great flow of thoughts in this one! Well written all the way through!