A Samurai sword in the hands of a master,
Is paled ‘cause your able to wield your blade faster,
The fear deep inside is your only protection,
And you flail it about in every direction,
Your unable to slow, or even to pause,
Unsympathetic to the pain that you cause,
A loved one, a friend, or baby with rattle,
All collateral damage in your measly battle,
Your weapon’s a part of your body and soul,
Installed by a demon ‘cause that’s what they dole,
Negative feelings and thoughts insecure,
A mixture of sadness and anger galore,
Frustration abounds at imagined rivals,
Fighting yourself for your very survival,
So you carry on ‘cause you think it’s a must,
No soul on this earth you feel you can trust,
The feel of disgust enters all that you meet,
Spring, summer, fall, with them all you compete,
So now you are old and your time is so fleeting,
Nothing has changed it just keeps repeating,
You’ve had lots of time to let your love show,
But the spirits are strong, and they will never let go,
Then your heart is all black and is hard as a stone,
And you’ll spend your last days all down and alone,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
THIS POEM WAS STRAIGHT FRESH. great philosophy of jealousy