The dust bowl of my poisoned breath
The tepid low narcotic test
The tempered brain falls from the nest
The captive tied a King in jest
Who laughs inside but outside is crying
The naked lights alive at dawn
Within the darkness like a thorn
The coldness numb becomes the warm
The Prophet roped inside unborn
Keeps me standing still but somehow moving
Rummaging through my pockets bare
Disguising icy lights with air
Erupting fast in clouds that tear
Cliffs of salt worn frozen bare
Hands are dry and prison lights are folding
It grins living your lucid fate
Lungs are bleeding but it can wait
Why smoking it for smoking's sake
Promise him you won't be late
The dreaming of daydream's mouth is silent
The idol in your mind is set
Your eyes bloodshot you know, but yet
The dark lord commends those who set
The tone for our young and let
It's children lie inside your breast pocket
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great Ross, I am actually speechless, its fantastically written. :)