It is,
what do you not say
I read the dusk
on your eyes.
Unspoken words
hammering!
A timer,
quartz clock,
ball bearings, pellets
croissant of terror.
Suspicious of the lady
riding on crest
responsible,
for the happenings.
Fear,
hair raising,
turns back the centuries.
We lose,
ourselves!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very interesting! I like the words, croissant of terror. keep writing! could you read and comment on my poems too? thank you.