the heart is a well
you can go for love
for contemplation
abandoned, it morphs
into an old well dark,
foreboding and uncanny
ready to claim you if you
wish to join it plunging in
and be a source of abuse,
your quietness and calm
demeanor shakened
now and then to clean up
the soiled of other people
the heart is a well to store
the graces from heavens or
a dungeon of curses for those
who cast a cloud over your
glowing wish and sunshine
you hear echoed in every
splash of the drawn water -
if you have bones they will break
if you have hair, they will burn
if you have skin they will crackle
if you have nails, they will crack and
when you get the love of your life, your
heart crushed into a million pieces
in your despair you walk around
smelling like a corpse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem