The darkness fills my head like wine does in a glass.
Murder, the only language of liberation I've learnt.
Ghostly my prison remained.
A god of flesh without sympathy.
Beginnings,
Are the songful tears of maidens.
Disputes my only regard for praise.
The face of the moon painted with anger,
Cold the sun has amused of its illumination.
Laughter of Hyenas,
The only evidence of my passage.
Questions dwindles at the tip of my mind,
Am I pretending to be God?
Or Is God pretending to be me?
Unlikely would my inquiries be of holy I presumed,
But in a day or two,
I will also cross the mighty bridges of insanity...
O.M.G
Hell has absorbed the Earth.
The outside is cunning like the wolves,
Their notes play of victory,
A glorious day for Libitinam.
Covered are my hands with crimson life juice...
Faith broke at a face of a man I called a father,
Now that I learnt that I am no son of his,
He too shalt fall my victim.
Rusted in my head are his words,
The swords of impaling doubts,
Painfully stabbing the bottom of my charred heart
But now...
Empathy is no friend to me.
O.M.G
What have I done?
OM Hajane
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem