The sky has been
murdered
its sunset lies bloody
dying on an horizon
a stiletto’d silhouetted steeple
finding the heart
between the ribs
of land & sea
staining my mind
making me a witness.
God like Mac the Knife
scurries off
keeping as usual(out of sight) .
Soon the deed done
night covers up the crime scene
& black...is black.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem