My soul...
Lost, searching, cold
Hysteria engulfed
My heart...
Callous, asleep, torrid
Defies all reasoning, shaken
My meat...
Corrupt, soiled, horrid
It’s a temple no more
I listened to the sound
a dropping sound
of sands in an hourglass
It is almost as soundless
as my voice
within the universe
But I can hear it
I felt it's movement
The sand
The dropping sound
Fast...
Deafening
I see the spirits
Powerful
Almost as mute
as my shadow
Like a halo over me
Watching my meat
Deteriorates
The dawn of time
Forgotten
Buried
It is night time now
I shall not sleep
I shall not be deceived
By what seemed peace
But not
I shall keep on the watch
I shall save the dust
I stand upon
I shall keep
the last grain
of sand
from the hourglass
I shall be awake
as the night sky
turns pale
I shall be sane
when the stars
do not show
their countless faces
I shall open my eyes
until the first light
Flickers
The last grain of sand
In my hand
Held
Hidden
Almost nothing
Almost a dream
(Jan.15,2011 13.23.03)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem