She seemed better before remembering,
She lay in drugged sleep, matter had not existed.
Instead of energy there was praise of the occult,
But eating desired itself, eating mattered.
He escaped from the present,
She enticed him further with remorse,
As the sleep crept into essence,
Showing their shoes and socks.
But talking was a whitening moment,
With sleep to entice the believers who wept
In front of drinkers and drunkards,
Fuelling the economy with matter and energy.
The haunted aisles martyred them,
She was a talker of the qualities
Internally polite and safer,
But he wanted more and more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem