Deciphering kelvin
makes the boy shake like razor blades
it seems to take form
as the mystery of creation,
if stars could read and speak
in rhythms they'd break in ovation
no one told the swollen gunner they'd come in waves then
streaming beasts transport to different places.
We hold they'r souls in these cases,
severing sixty seven in a blistering heaven.
Digging through in spite of mace when
heavier in space like bricks laid down by the mason
destroying stage 10 with the most spherical of braces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dylan Beautiful lines. Excellent Rgards, Noor