Half full and half empty, the glass of time
is now broken to pieces, void of “I’m”.
The baffled pattern of thoughts stares at you
Reaching for scoffed stars the darkest skies blew.
Cooped up in your dreaming fancy you tar
Poeple with the same brush, wisp of a girl!
Impending lies are there waiting! Now unfurl:
Countless fragments whimper petals you mar
No longer schmaltzy vision they will brook,
neither your debunked voice of clanking chain
will ever be listened to, you, wee chick!
Memory’s shattered tidings of a sook,
whose joy is done with, whose grief is vain,
are these idols that nothingness did prick.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.