Behold these marks of brokenness:
Scorched flowers...hollowed out suns and moons;
Phrases parsed like warring nations.
Ellipses and scratches of profound despair
Punctuate the weathered page like
Tiny daggers of lightning. Societal storms
Are preying vultures that descend upon us
Daily. I can no longer compose in strict verse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem