A wave comes in.
A tide becoming.
A sea of tranquility.
A symphony.
A bass so lonely notes.
A drummer with a distorted rhythm.
The guitarist picks up the dread.
A blues number by the board.
As the queen travels abound.
A wave now alive.
A light becoming to strike out
the darkness.
Darkness blooms.
The people shout doom.
As the machines march forward.
Forward as the general cried.
Cried many tears of yesterday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
darkness blooms, people shout down.