'Ire' Is The Thing With Horns Poem by Aidan Stene
'Ire' Is The Thing With Horns
“Ire” is the thing with horns-
That dwells in the back of the mind-
And cries that wretched sound-
Begging to come out-just for a little while
And most bitter-when weakened-its rage
And desperate and effete the time-
That freed the horns from its cage
And made me commit such a crime
It draws near in the happiest of days-
And comes without notice-
Seeps in every crevice
Then approaches-soulless
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 5:54:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
