Awash in crimson tears, upon cold steel shed
Bewildering frenzied theories of madness heard
Care not, for I am who I said
Disguised, fey this tormented concept of stress insured
Emotions, somberly cut by cunning word
For organized chaos in Tacitus, bless
Gestating minds, limp, the soul evacuees
Hatred and vengeance is my wrath
Insouciant the spark extinguished today
Journeyed foot prints tread red aft my path
Knowledge brings proof to what we say
Livid I stir and stalk my prey
Massacring masses each turn of the page
No one, has yet escaped my violent rage
Ongoing in ceaseless efficacy
Profound this abhorrence you call strife
Quadraphonic my voice of literacy
Resonating the steel shaft of life
Sweet dirges swoon souls upon my knife
This freedom I proffer hence vesper like vassal
Unwilling and willing dispatched without hassle
Vindicated, I the votary vainglorious
Wanigan travelers stacked for Styx by chance
Xiphos now sheathed, its anger ravenous
Yearning for yare in rumored utterance
Zealously my spirit silent, assuaged I dance
Crushing bones beneath pyre foot like cake,
Another layer of varve these ashes make
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem