Bitten by a skillful demon,
one of hell or thy own dark side,
upon the sands of desert,
upon the sands of time.
Who is the trickster?
who is the unbroken?
'Well, I am, I am time.'
'Don't forget,
I am not a straight line.'
'In fact, the universe is mine.
Existence revolves around the constructs of my mind.'
Well, beyond I must go,
flowering the love of roses,
a prick to remember.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem