You may protrude at the core of every thought
Like a widow portrays her loneliness.
If in fact you are true, this rue will in fact, cover the convergence, from mellow lonlieness
to throbbing with hate.
Anxiety is an issue. But f**k it, you can forget about peace, forget about love.
All you have to do is stand above.
Portray this loneliness, taste it, pass it through a gaze.
If in fact you are true, this rue will in fact cover the convergence, from mellow lonlieness to throbbing with hate.
Desire all answers, but who's the keeper with the key?
All this putrid nonsense you focus on every day.
Killing is yet repented, when espied from afar.
Along the gatekeeper's window.
He'll stay locked behind the bars.
If in fact you are true, this rue will in fact cover the convergence, from mellow loneliness to throbbing with hate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem