You'll be back, you'll be back...
Your pen will as always be ever and forever on the writing attack.
You may hope to stay away your own pen...
You'll come back, again and again.
For no one can stay away...
For sure as certain you'll be back another ole time or day.
For nothing on earth can stall your pen...
Know not when'st ye come again?
The addiction...
Is clearly pure poetical diction.
For talent cannot and will not stay thee hand...
Pure addicted genius is brand named as brand.
Aloft thy hand at well lit screen...
Tis to be ye only last known scene.
Words of wisdom just haunts you deep into your own hard mind...
Where will thee become as if in final last predestined and wind?
Poetics is what do'th haunt ye bad...
At the passing of your words in life will lastly to be recepted as forlorn and sad.
Your day will come and come in real hard...
For you will eternally be the well accepted smart wordable bard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem