A formless gas keeps rising
Beyond my senses of normality
Assuring me of its existence,
Its gray despair
I stare at its gaseous outpouring
Now transforming into
A wide yawning abyss
That begins its echoing:
“Beyond all the good things in life
There is only me that awaits,
From your endless dissatisfactions
Your permanent conflict
Your quiet desperation –
I feed in endless delight!
Your searching for my annihilation,
You realise, is futile.
For however much you tirelessly resist –
All roads culminate towards me.
A ghastly final homecoming,
Many would say, but
I deliver with perfect precision
Without flinching,
Without cowering,
At the appointed hour.
With undying loyalty,
I am always here for you,
In a state of slow deflowering,
Waiting patiently'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully written with a great flow.