Above the world, above insects you sit
Looking down on societies calls, glaring at their nakedness
Vermin, tasteless beings of meaningless self-absorption
They know not of your existence, yet they beg you to come down
Step off the soft black grass; come out from under that tree of life
Its brances, bare, loom over you like a protective mother
You look up to notice
One white apple clings to its breast, it will fall, just like you
Awake the unkind wind stirs your safe haven
It rips, it tugs, chills you with its warm smile
Thud
Worthless, it lays at your feet weeping
So you comply, and lift its soul and bite into its being
The sweet nectar of honey flows down your throat in such perfectness
Knowing nothing of shame, you stand and tread on there minds
Within are wings of grey, nether good, nor bad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this was lovely. thanks for sharing