Glass, and metal soiled.
To spite a failed revenge.
Crying, with metal tears,
into your obsidian hands.
Unknowing of the damage.
You helped with obsidian hands,
because obsidian doesn't break.
Until, it breaks when I grab.
It cuts, as I drop the pieces.
Another obstacle you put between us.
Your shattered hands, scattered.
Metal tears harden as they fall.
I walk barefoot,
over glass and metal.
to feel the pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem