Our roads part
when we meet
the 'Y'.
Living
in your world
of fantacies,
beckoning
your royal subjects
yet
falling
captive
of your own
ruthlessness.
You speak
with calmness
yet
you
are the enemy
disguising your mantel
winning trophies
of deserted souls;
as you debouch
I saw the lights
in the shadow
of the shadows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like this epithet: ''winning trophies of deserted souls'' nice ideas...10