Now this is
Where I am
Adept and
Sometimes
Obnoxious at.
To make things
For others.
Empires,
Revelries,
Bastions clad with
Thin streaks of
Silhouettes,
Flowers girdled
By fantastic paper,
Star-crossed
Lines.
Everything.
I always make
A fire
To keep you
Warm -
You are never
Safe from
The arctics
Inside you.
To watch you
Blossom
Was like
Seeing
A montage
Of small
Tragedies.
And to watch
You walk
Astray
Way away
Into a land
That you plan to
Besiege
Was like
Seeing a
Seraph
Remove his wings
And wear
A sinister grin.
So for you,
Here:
I don’t know
Where you are
Or
How well you burn
In the water
Or
How flourishing you look
As you submerge
Yourself into
The flames of desertion
But this I am sure,
My islets
Are sealed
And you’ve not
The keys
To the locks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem