Bright solid yellow
distant crowned ball
melts;
amplifies the depressed
and sallow spread
of orange spectacle
towering above
darkness
ate what was clear liquid then
now flowing under
the snaky slope -
there stood
frailty at its’ best;
leaning further
bird’s eye view.
Inhale
suspend…
then
she rages out
fog from
her thin ruby
speakers
now
her veins,
uneasy;
mind,
queasy;
trembling…
almost kissing earth
but she was
aloft with the
stars
floating…
gliding…
spinning…
spitting…
every fragment of
your haunting
façade that loiters
in her wasting
heart, twisted
mind so,
Aeolus blew her
hidden moans away
to Olympus
for that brief moment
whilst, bit by bit
she converts:
a cold corpse
as she
puffs chains of bitter
haze from her tank
crumbling inside
of her.
She was spent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem