the clogging humanscent
which breaks the tomb
of wraithan dynasties of life
fighting down the blistered steps
reaching claws for golden apples
out of time-step with them
scraping only on mirage
knowing the death of ages
hating sons fathers of a history
forgotten by its Makers
gripped in all the dark
incarcerated lives which saw
the shuddering of living Earth
and cried for lost forgotten memory
and died believing self was whole
this is the Earth then
a virgin defiled
deflowered before the bloom
but not dead oh no
only choked the psyche
limp in a geometric chaos
touched by a new and
dying sun which leaves
without trails whose trees
were without leaves without
trails in the dusk
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem