This night holds a delicate figure
a symbol to scratch at your walls
Your frame is enough to make elephants break
or force the universe into stall
The cave of your demeanor
crumbles to the sea
waterlogged and simple
the dream of enemies
The claw that you hold like a potion
to poison the king in his sleep
your poison does maul at his belly and teeth
with scattered flesh under his cape
You pass through the walls without moving
escape to the vessel that waits
you pause just before you step out of the war
and notice the fire on the lake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem