Songs of word, flies hard from
me to you in pause.
Yes you did, you rest upon the
bench held closed.
Rooms of court, fill the sky how
it tries, to still the day in rest.
Know judge is an island to bath,
in the mantle, of purples black pen.
It will read the docket, against her sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem