I was like a white tree
Under the darkness of lies
I was searching the God to say
Devil may sometimes cries
It was not an easy thinking
I wasn't you and you were not me
Who could judge our destiny?
I was that wrong tree
You cut me from you forest
But my roots was under the earth
Who could die like my believe
Before the date or before the birth
World is heavy and deep to know
Sisyphus is a machine of money
World is too light to know
Sometimes death is so funny
I am that white tree between all the dark
I am that darkness beyond the Wormhole
I am that worker under the mountains
Not for living to find the more coal
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poetic dream. Thanks