A heart heaving hard next to nihilism
Swears serenely to break free
From the bondage of brigandism and weak witticism
At the count of three under a glee tree.
The heart hears calls for company
Sought from a singsong for too long
Saunters, sings for an epiphany
To grow strong and never wrong.
The heart hassles wishes and whims
Sent from conversion to convey congratulations
On determining -to a degree- to host hymns
Sung for mumbo jumbo members steeped in merciless mutilations.
The heart hoists a favour flag in her fort
In total temerity to challenge changes
Bought, caught and taught for nought in her port
Where she severs loss lozenges and sentiment sponges.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem