I've been chased by the movable dark
when my inner self keeps beckoning
a twisted moonlit dilemma
The possession of which - undeniable
A touch of tender gray
I refuse to feel beneath my obscure mental strength.
Something blurs the holy secrets
lightening those hideous enigmas
The retired aimlessness
seems to have regained its valour
glistened by the sheen of my oily plights
I feel vandalized for something's unstitching
the delicately darned covering
tightly held by my indispensable obsession
From now on I wish to remain a ‘nobody'
to be pursued by a stable nonexistence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem