Paper O Paper! I let thee Kill,
scribes like butchers with quill.
Merciless daggers furrows made,
hapless cried thee like maid.
Thy fragrance entice those handle,
fresh like flowers in bundle.
O virgin thy chaste white,
soot stained hands with might.
Cried all help... in pang,
paper, paper hear they sang.
Nazareth reach thy shrill woe
save thee Man who saw.
Heedless yells rang to max,
Sirens said they to Wax.
Threads like manacles thee bound,
gaol of darkness to mound.
Soul sought heaven to find
Paper Monger! doomed thy mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
interesting read...thanks for sharing sir