like eyes with veils your hearts seems to be
forgives the least wound
the traffic of souls would deem
nessasary homage to prey for your little sin
one hand outstreached
the other has given in
this is not a gift till it hurtles inside the sun
bursting in fullness and blossoming into love
like
when the impact of shrapnel has taken form
subtle intact but still ruptured and discord
thats how i see the voice
your karma is a choice
your eloquence betrays you
your nod of defeat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem