It is hard to take for granted
That which one has always known
That which one sought comfort and adequacy from
That which one was willing to die for
The sacrament never ponders… never questions
The recognition is longed for
No matter what the shade
One must suppress the honour in riotousness
The desire for humble gratitude
And instead crave the fear cast upon oneself by their damnable existence
One must embrace their purpose
And their devotion to the outcome
One must spend their life hunting vulnerability
So that when devoured spawns substance
To suppress ones hungry, rabid conscience
One must then and only then
Surrender to fates bitter sweet seduction
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem