I wish for something
that is not mine
not because I desire, it,
or its securing embrace
but because what is
no longer fulfils my need
awakened into confusion
theory implodes
as we venture past
the ingrained dirt
so I search
for belief that builds countries
that inspires armies to take up
and confines solitary men
heroes of conviction
only, looking inside
I see a note
left behind and beyond the text books
and empty promises
of new world and order
I should follow
instead I immerse myself
pathetically
in yoghurt pots
and yesterdays newspapers
praying only, that the end does not find me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem