Half of the universe is becoming fragile
With big pupils resting in the sockets of clay cauldrons
Celebrating the birth of death and thereby the death of immortality
Floating through the thinnest medium between space and time
11: 59 PM
I am still awake in the other half of the universe
Hiding my eyes from the reflections of reality
And shutting my ears from the silent chaos
With my womb homing a rapist's child.
Wondering if only a minute to 12: 00 AM would have made a difference.
©22112018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Hiding my eyes from the reflections of reality'..... That seems to be the position of our society which is adept to accuse the victim more often than not. Rascals.