on cushioned paws
what have you done
in the night
after miles of hunting
piles of lives
backsliding
into darkness
colourless
with no sense of time
or feel
a tetra-minded being
moving stealthily
clouding minds
in the shelter
of the night
are you in a man
spewing curses
where there
is no light
paralyzing bodies
in helpless nothingness
waiting for society
to call yoy back
from this self-destroying
track
into pious sobriety
and will you come back
without colour's lack
created for a purpose
in all-seeing
divinity's eye
or did you make
your choices
outside of man
created
but not seen
even as a poet
or a panther
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem