Like a hot cinder
on the black paper, makes
a hole in heart.
Your zodiac sign
will burn under the moon.
The other side cries.
The fair queen has
a scar on forehead. Third
eye was waning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
" The fair queen has a scar on forehead. Third eye was waning." Fantastic flight of imagery. Thanks for sharing.