I feed it
with my own flesh and blood
it's the only thing that exists
it becomes greater with every breath
with every look I take
I'm becoming miniature
as it grows
I become smaller
as it broadens
I become narrower
it shines
I become darker
neither can it be satisfied
nor it will be satisfied
I disappear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem