Only the guilty will know the words
that sometimes my pen writes.
The anguish and abandonment
I feel into the dark of night
when I joined the parade of tortured souls
who hide away from the dawning light.
Only the guilty will know
the persistence of my pens might.
May they lay awake in anguish
tortured by the souls of many
whom they have stabbed
without an eyelash flinched.
Only the guilty will know of whom I speak
as their sleepless nights prevail.
Haunted by the phantoms
and their ghostly wail,
seeing their tethered victims lay with muted screams
yelling from mouth-less faces.
16 January 2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem