I have been breached
By the onslaught of
Nothingness.
And perhaps
It’s time to go back
Behind the machine gun.
A steady warfare
With nothing to win
Or vie for - losing
Is what this fray
Is all about.
I lose myself
And lose myself
Some more
Until this vicious redundancy
Exhausts itself -
Only to prepare
For another
Self-devouring attrition.
A mad futility,
A supercilious tactic.
There’s no salvation here,
It may be under repair
Or sent into
A total abeyance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem