I lost my inspiration for love in rhyme
And yet, I find love in foreboding time
In the darkness, deep inside the keep
Of the dreams where happiness does sleep
The tortured souls of lovers die
In the presence of my shadowed eye
Conspicuous, this conspired intent
One simple thought can be so bent
It is not so easy to take a life
I have no gun, no rope, no knife
No kind words to anoint your head
I will not bless the recent dead
I will not morn in apropos
When it's done, you will not know
Lingering, festering, fermenting,
An hour past the day of its prime
This time in time my time goes on
Drinking spirits, she was vintage wine
It drives me incessantly to no measure
Taking pleasure in your displeasure
But a life is taken when all is said
One simple thought inside your head
This simple thought we all strive for
It binds eternal the souls of two
It drives the will of evils core
But, once it's lost your life is through
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem