January 25th,11: 34 AM –
Your voice rips through the lonesome static;
The blade of grass that lacerates the sky,
Opening unknown gore onto our profane world.
It’s you that speaks, you that destructs so beautifully.
Your anarchy is so enchanting.
I can’t stop myself from fixing my glazed eyes
On your strong hands desecrating my once calm existence;
Ahh, you kill me so humanely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem