Mighty mantra of the panther.
Turning the incandescent light into a dimming darkness.
Sounds of verbose, how can I even try to compare.
A continuous idle stare.
A living casper.
An unfinished caper.
Diluted and polluted.
Poisoned by too much.
Driven by confusion.
The writings of an illusion.
Overstated and underestimated.
I digress this is not progress.
A run backwards, how much is distant.
Poised in a noble stance.
Trying to make it look eloquent.
But it really no longer holds the beauty it once did.
Fogged glasses over the shadow of on looking eyes.
The words have been compromised.
A conflicted meaning, seemingly seeming.
The transformation of demons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Are you changing one for another? ? ? Sometimes, words are demons and we judged ourselves others times are so sweet and we again judge yourselves. Dont be so hard on yourself. Your words are beautiful and impactful