There is a mad soliloquy
In between the frenzied arms
Of the wall clocks.
They have long claimed my impetus,
I can feel the loose thread of a hiatus
Claiming me,
Like the words
Au revoir
Claimed everything,
And so, I will let
The sparrows die.
I will let the children
Lose a semblance of their innocence
As they are besmirched by the
Hoarsely wuthering distances.
Let the immense night
Open its even more immense orifice
And swallow all of me.
The stars will sing of
My story
And they will name it
Au revoir.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem