You can feel eyes around here,
Peeking through the bushes.
Night doesn't seem dark, at all.
Perhaps it's in the moonlight
Or neighbor's window blinds,
But a certain hatred falls.
Of a kind slow burning,
Like thunder through the skies,
Rippling, power yearning
Chills down one's spine.
I cannot help but hearing
Their cackling in my mind.
As if, for a second turning
Would bring abrupt end to life.
Lest there be disappointment,
Fear flies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
These are beautiful. Have so much more to read yet still.