I see your rage,
Like taillights in the distance,
And purple mountains crashing,
In a thick void.
I wander down misty roads,
Through curly willows,
Where white lines fade,
And morph into fire,
It's all a dream.
I follow the midnight air,
Cruel touch of breeze,
And in letting go,
I felt my tears shake,
And he vanished like the horizon,
In the shattered glass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
all your 3 strophes begin with I. it makes you very concentrated on your own - maybe sad feelings. try to write beginning with you - and depression will fly away!
I do see the repetition there. I felt it was intentionally concentrated to create the depth and cyclic pattern of sadness. Thanks for the feedback.