Spare me not
The astronomy
It lingers in my thought
Rattling my whole anatomy
The black holes
In my thought
Drilling huge holes
The continuum I fought
Cast it's shadow as my dice falls
What is it all about
Should it be what I can do
Or what I should have done
Perhaps what it should do
The shooting star
Shoots again
It has a gun in its hand
It dies in the end
Of its shooting
I then just watch the moon
And I bite on
To my rusty spoon
I will be there soon
In the morning coming
The sun rising
And I
Forever smiling
With my thunder bellowing
The acid rain itching
I smile on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem