the ground here is soiled with
blood and the longing to
breach
as if birth would save
something akin to life
narrow heart envelope
ovaries rupture thru
pascifist empathy
organic osmosis
the crown still sits perfectly
unscathed by holocost
genocide does not even
tremble the pivot point
the mosters are realer than
sky or our own doomed moon
hovering crater filled
mark of what comes soon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem is nice. Pl read my poems and send your comments.