Inside the angels is an emptiness
where evil would have lived;
but was withheld instead-
leaving half the mirror in darkness.
Inside the demon's a kind of hole
where good would have defined
half of the ticking mind-
to constitute a soul.
No soul lives wholly good or evil;
there's only half the requisite
polarity, that there must visit-
to enhance the memory's retrieval.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a thought provoking poem that I had to read twice over, but a delightful write.