On the hill of last defiance
Beside the fallen life
I’m laying naked to the sphere of mirrors touch
Whispering they are to me
“Let your death to be”
It was in the battle of the butterfly
I’ve lost my wishes
And with them, my name became the name of nothing
My senses of a man, floated, faded into the ground
Blood I had become and blood I am
From the deep of dark divine
The voices of the mad
Gave their strings to resurrect my path
“with the gift of ever last, a curse will follow.
To carry our suffering for the everything and none”
On the hill of last defiance
I am the fallen life
Raised from the promise of tomorrow
To the death that will never come
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem