Lets lie,
I wont share my pie,
My essences, existence
My stance,
In this life.
The rhymes run
run
Right. Entering to a new line,
Silence, the pace has stopped,
Spilling similes and metaphors
Suddenly a Turn,
As the beat changes,
So does the page age,
Not in hours, minutes or seconds
But stanzas, syntax and ink
A sudden blink
And the white is dead,
Lead to darkness by the pen
Into my head, and the thought that transcend
Looks at the author, a poet in delight
As I give birth to a delight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem