Pardon my mask
I will put you on pedestal to torment me,
because you were necessary
for my existence.
When I prepare finally my death wish
you can smile.
Your eyes are looking through my head,
I know,
you were hurt from my moon face.
I will wash your feet with my tears now.
Exhausted, nameless in a crowd
I was counting my see-through triumphs
all piled up as burned out bones.
To live without meaning is very painful.
Everything is abused for self gratification.
Over a black sky, against the mountains
the old silence becomes teeth of a dead faith.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The hand that reddens the flesh acts like a fish finding its way back from the ocean. It is not angry, the corrective is simply necessary. What is necessary carries with it pleasures to make sure the deed gets done. Scales shine iridescent in the full light of pain.