legend has it
all right about you, down to the last bullet
of how you sang through grenades
at boulder-lashed, whitewash-loaded rivers
dissolving mountains
with a charm you merely hinted
from summertime abroad
quiet
while I summon your demons
quiet
while I load your gun
you could have been anyone of us that life
but your song had an undertone
and
boy
did you sing it well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Assassin is painful but they do it in their own understanding. Sorrowful.
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