My bastille
and mistaken house
has taken on
deep and hidden
character, a reality
only I may perceive.
This conceived through
years of diabolic design
imposed of they
flagrant gods
I ...
subjugated subordinate
gaze from a dirty, obtund window
seeking assuage, but relegated
mere and dark suggestion -
imperious clouds seem to
growl in menacing mien,
dark, thunderously ...
unkind
there are
no birds here ...
not one affectionate view
not even, a crow
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem