The Fox that burned
So steadily in the night
The Fox that crept
So suddenly into my life
A Fire Fox
That inflamed my forest
And engulfed my thoughts
This Fox of memories And stories -
Now at the bottom of my heart -
It Rots
Still it burns
And pulls out my strings
Strums the notes
In which I love it -
It seems
I'd wish it to dropp
Right from the bottom and through
Trembling too my stomach
So I could throw up, whats left of you.
But the Fox is always there
Like a candle wicker -
Burning down and reigniting
When ever I see her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem