A tall enigma
In a proper tuxedo
With an umbrella of grace.
You're a bloodied statute
With icy veins that howl
For a gullible soul.
Weeping for brilliant Cygnus.
Roaring grace
Now maimed.
Timshel purged,
Suitcase sealed with apathy.
Candid cognac
Scorching throat.
Pleasing alone
In divine chapels.
Stumbling in
Hazy catacombs.
Mourning for
Sapphire chandeliers.
Crumbling honor
And burning pride.
Falling from
A spiteful awakening
And into a cold fire
And dark shadows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem