The invisible
throws a visible image
without a tether.
Do you see the god?
Was a matter of faith?
You tie a thread on the wall. Longing
finally reaches climax. Gravity
defies a flying dream.
You had erred, yet
failed to accept the guilt.
A scariest moment was,
when you entered the morph.
It was a U-turn. Robots
will dictate the polity. You
alight on a rostrum; like
a lovely pink swallow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem