Excoriate your garish light
I belong to the crimson sun
Thank you and I apologize
For giving you apt wings
In an unsolicited riposte
Now, I’m letting go of the strings
Back to my cranial dome
Nibbling on a ravine of fear
Ubiquitously searing
Adhering to my struggles
Without banisters or pillars
As you vaguely conceal
Your lustrous wings
In a conceited vying
Do no crucify yourself,
Fallen seraphim.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem