Far North, yet still the same rough winds
They drag me away at the hands of a fate like mine
The light of day is buried in a broken bolted vault
Keys to the yoke and womb rage flutes
All in reverence, the last of a great line of words
Denied the joys of marriage, doomed by the Muse
Her eyes blinked out of blindness and bled with revenge
Stabbing her royalty and tossed her in a tomb
Splitting the secrets of the edges of my craft
A strange manual within a defiled blueprint
Burned in brimstone due to rotten wisdom that killed the dead twice
The rites were passed as an offering of mercy
Mortal wounds in the sanctuary – fury in those wings
Not yet buried in the grave in fear of such a traitor
Although this ink has tried to stray me short
Towards the sea with the eyes of none
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem