To die for your love
Seems bland
Unlike me
A waste of time
To die for your fantasy
Outside viewers
Claim they see insanity
They always do
When they fail
The mission of explanation
The imaginary
The creative
A thread of bond
And a connection
Of relation
They say
It’s a lie
But it is not him
But me
Who is not here
His morals
Are solid
What of mine?
Doesn’t that already
Make him more?
Thinking of everything
I used to be
With a self-image
Mocked by hypocrites
lucidly
Under-valued
I find myself
Dying
For a gust of wind
A shadow of dust
People talk
I hear
Only but the bells
Of execution
ringing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ack...gloomy where you are today? The sun is always there, like your poetry.xxElysabeth