In our times of fury,
We roll in our wretched despair.
Our skin drenched in the hate,
As it drips from our swollen bodies
Over wounds laid bare.
We shout and we scream.
Our anger scratches against the sky,
Our words hiss as they mark the stars
And as we claw and rip and tear everything apart,
In the darkness we then cry.
We cry for what is broken,
In shaking fear that it cannot be fixed.
In the glowing ambers of our storm
We hunger for what now is missed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem