The poet I try to be,
Is it me or just another's prodigy?
I try to explain,
I'm driving nuts out of my brain,
I'm exploring on uncharted terrain,
I touch and feel the pain.
I dive in this mist
Tightening the bundles on my wrist,
I fight this misty demons
Fight first the fathers, then their sons,
I'm getting kisses from effeteness
Only with God and Jesus as my witness...
So sons of the earth, give rest to loath
Have mercy on the mothers which gave you birth,
Sanctify the world in which you live,
Try to take just to give,
And so as a present receive
That which you had tried to give.
God is up and sees,
Even though I doubt he petties
The human kind and it's integrity,
Honestly, I dread our entire predestiny.
So this is me, my mentality,
Giving an apology to the poet I try to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem