My heart is a bomb.
I’m ticking away at life, soon to detonate in his hands.
Down with the damages,
the spectacle, this is divine destruction.
I ran away from God tonight,
set my feet towards the epic journey that awaits me.
They’re looking for me.
They won’t be able to find me for the planks in their eyes.
Planks forming a cross of crucifixion,
blinding the sheep with a deep darkness veiled in all-consuming light.
I’ve brushed the planks from my eyes,
I’ve kicked over the burning lamp to set my way on fire.
The word is futile. I refuse the fruit,
I carry on now without the veil of protection and without the flock.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. I was impressed. It was written well with nice texture and imagery. I rated it 10. Thanks for sharing..... Kindly read and rate my poem 'A humble complaint' on page 2. Best regards Akmal