Masquerading in a church full of dreams,
all parishioners in their pews
The preacher straightens his mask and starts,
a sermon old renewed
Hellfire and brimstone come roaring out,
words to torch and burn
His face staying hidden as the nightmare unfolds
—the congregation's dreams left spurned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February,2020)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem