What is a god but a sad little sod
with the power to do what he will?
Where is the proof of a glorious truth
in the message of blood in the till?
How are we here in this nice little mere
but to dance with the passing of time?
Who is reflected in mirror and maze
but a god just awaiting the chime?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem