…It was a culprit to my body
A passable thought to my destiny
The foolishness around and uncertainty
Is inexplicable to my credibility
Something is beguile and indeed
To ought a certain craggy and deed
And an idle cost to delegate a creed
Is a harmony defying a scanty feed
The diminishing prim from a fleeting fume
And forbidding of my base to a full
Is a rift to escape a trifling flute
Gantelet! The unwavering staunch is at use!
It was amorphous possession to be
Debauched and expressed in me
But to control a triturate akin
It was me…running the gauntlet!
It was me…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem