Every myth has its origin,
what shall it be
for the one in me, none has seen?
.
Like in a cannibal in my heart—
it eats me inside
yet none in you see,
the tempest it brings.
.
In vain have you poured yourself,
over the wine of my lips;
in search of nectar—
whilst I laughed at your wishes of immortality.
.
On the ink of my page;
seldom have you ventured out—
tiptoeing on sins;
seldom has one seen us
drowning in our own.
.
There shall be a day;
someday—
asked of the key;
The soul shall utter 'I forgot'
LOKI
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem