I’ve always owned my embellished hallucination
While the blood spews through the tears
All but an incriminated and cruel occupation
But that was before you were there
A plug in a hole in a heart
No more a manner, a fixation
The sins don’t seep out your part
And the masterpiece now
Is no blundering error, no misinterpretation
I’ve counted down the rips to eight
Each damp from its fragment
But you’ve got the will to save love so late
And no muddled questions of where tries went
Heart sustaining on what never came to be
But now it no longer guzzles richly in my veins
And I too absorbed in obscurity and tragedy
But you’ve raptured me from all but stains
It was divine for divinity to never tell
And for you, it required more than copper or wish
Swept to bliss, of troubled Eden from a cell in hell
And I could foretell from the first kiss
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'It was divine for divinity to never tell' ...yes.