you trust her
she has a gift for the gab
she talks about
those flowers that bloom from June till November
she draws a world in the heavens
she comforts you that you belong
and that you need her
later she demands that you worship her
as a gesture of respect you compromise a bit
prostrate on the floor
bringing her gifts
and praises
you know her
you keep silent
when she begins to destroy your life
you escape
and she will not find you anywhere
you know yourself better
you know a place
where you are true just like the rest who live there
how can she follow you on that path of truth and righteousness?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem