Bolted to my mind
Afrenzied notion of derangement
Nothing else
Coiled up after staggering
Across dusky, faint hall
On its bleak, raw tiles
Seated entranced
Admist the tranquility
Of this wee, confoundish nook
Fastened securely inside
This jacket of
Bounded lunacrative passion
Secluded from any rational account
Of social truth
It's practically
A depressing influence of longings
On reality
Dozing into a realm
Of madness from actuality
Prisoner to this whim
Of insanity eternally
Yearning for it to control
Yearning to be its prize
Taken away
To a true senseless dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem