It feels like I already wrote this one,
summate a pen and called it done.
Morass collapsing and alone,
slipping life from fingers
And suddenly dead.
captures words you said,
a relationship dry;
epoch old bone.
Mushy glow of reason and reality
has become a dour stranger to me.
Gone are all the cadence and reasons
charming like poisonous savor,
enjoyed for moments sting for all seasons.
Into the deep valley that became my lost soul
isolated by loss of control.
Trapped and caged,
No birds sing,
to blot out the voices in my head
that incessantly repeat words are said,
echo with a cracking cat-o'-nine-tails'sting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem