This ire, yes this fire!
Where did it come from?
When did I dig so deep?
And drew out this lava
Of spunk
With my bare hands.
I must be insane
And high,
For I can't keep it
From flowing
And flowing,
So let the red angel
Gush through
The spout of my soul
And run down the hill
Of my heart,
Let it flame my
Will and drive.
I will burn,
Blue no more but red,
Burn,
And turn the wry
Into smiles.
Nice flow and the image of digging anger is having pictorial quality.
Let it flame my Will and drive. I will burn, Blue no more but red, Burn, And turn the wry Into smiles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the this poem Shouvik it is very powerful and deep. I find your expression to be superb!