A poet has no boundaries, no stop signs and lines
A poet is as infinite as the spectrum of time
A poet cannot be limited by the confines of a rhyme
A poet is katholicos, the universal prime
Born premature, cast out of society's womb
Mother nature and father time's child born too soon
Once more reborn, crawling out of the cave
Only to be trampled upon by those he saved
My pen tramples on your million man army
My thoughts overcome those temptations all around me
And once the war is raging, this will be my sole testimony
Lost within the archives of man's past memory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem