Each new universe
A god within a God
Each face an emanation of a holier face
Each soul enfolds the other
In waves of perfect circular motion
These things in my heaven are of the original substance
Converted from the dust they became
And even my scars as I left them
Are given to me in the rain
I remember how their minds split
As they stumbled away from the past
Unaware which divinity
Set their face in a black and white mask
The characters in my dreams see me as I was
I'm trying to forget them once I wake
But my thoughts are lost men among broken things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem