To hear the lock tumbler
door opens
i want to break from reality
everything vanishes before i see
what was never my notion
at last i stood for
you walk on a sick grounds
vaulted by withered stuffs
smokes emerge from the cracks
your next day can smash
all you wanted
and all you never got
and you can count the crows
sitting on the wall
and exactly
we come to know
the universe is functioning
perfectly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem