The ability to torture the reader,
Like other writers torture me,
Is a comfort.
It is the most accursed blessing.
It is the Divine torture:
The impetus to action
Driven by physical inaction—
Internal reaction to push
(perhaps too far for its own good)
new ideas to the brink of reality
only to be dashed—
crushed by the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Okay, I laugh. Definitely a reason to write and well put.