I have no replicals
if my heart sinks under medicals
it takes only a miracle
to save my drowning tentacle
lest my soul self be stole
rode upon a caravan driven by mole
into a journey where dead are sold
if i must leave our doors to the shore
to an everlasting epicurean of bore
let the saved-saviour
hear the sweet smells of my savor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem