In anger and against my will
I slam down my clenched fist
Now opening my hand
Palm facing heaven
No more grasping to my gold dust
I let the winds of change decide
If it all blows away
Or stays anchored
Fools gold, Monkey’s gold
Yes Monkey is gold.
The wave is pounding me
My board strains under its weight.
Even if I survive this one
Sets of swells build on the horizon
Can I surf this ocean of bobbing heads
Swaying in the strobe lights to death metal
In night clubs filled with lust
Swarming Dog fish prowling
This is not my will but yours
I have no choice but to open my hand
Spinning and tumbling with the wave
Pounding water is my master
If I don’t mould to her domineering will
My body will be snapped like koa wood.
The road ahead has faded away
Its uncertain where to tread next
The trail I was going to blaze
Might now be a circle
But as long as there is hope
If I can see Alpha Centauri
Maybe, yes maybe
The night will dawn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem