Mesmerized by a sight
Of an angel cloaked with sin, I was
Doomed to be consumed by whispers
Of a mind's fixated rasp
On a vision seducing
That metaphors, in exhaustion, in silence died
And was tattoed painless and quiescent
On the mind;
An addiction demoting the soul
From ashes to fire,
Drumming the heart a tune
Long ago forbidden.
Thirst quenched only, and only, when desire,
Iris to iris,
is reciprocated
—thus is this secret between Heaven and I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem