It was a night
when I played with a nostalgic
dilemma inside a metal-chamber
where night herself
guarded acrylic passion
no bird
no song
no flesh
what more could you expect
not my case-study
but
it was sure
fire should keep the harmony
if hormone and hygienic
anti-poetic ambience
dictates the paradrop
to transform metal to dust
metallic-chamber means
night resonates with low frequency
to make herself understood
the poet's journey
was sure to catch
a thread of poetic-beauty
...and this is the way
when lunar eclipse
commands someone
to compose the word-art
commonly called
a poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ingenious! ! loved this poem, excellent write. Almost a tongue twister at times within this poem. RoseAnn