Oh why in the morn
Is it always the same?
Wrest this twisted knot
From the core of my frame.
The struggle to start
Each dire day anew,
To gaze through the prism
Of dark and the blue.
So little time
Is my swipe at the world,
Still wondering the way
To wound it the most,
To pay back the pain
Buried deep in the skin,
The twisted malevolence
Lurking within.
To ride this vile fate
To a bone crushing end,
The option now chosen,
Dementedly defend,
There can be no respite
From the power in play,
Salvation once craved
Banished now and always....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem