I drink the words,
The words are being drunk by me.
The words are there in me.
I am a word.
All the lines are correct,
I am not a prophet, but
Perfect with words.
I am the victim of words,
Words are there busy
In harming cutting killing me
Again and again here and there
For no reason. Not true.
The reasons I know not, true.
Without words, I can't live, not untrue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem