One day follows the next,
Time is relative.
Life is your making.
Your tongue slithers.
A moth flying to the sun,
Love fooling everyone.
Fruitless trees.
A use no one has found.
Vows made just to be broken,
Carts bought for their wood,
Glass made to be shattered.
hope for fire from the ashes.
Seeds never germinate,
Plants won't sprout,
Wheels won't turn.
Your Words lay with Lies.
Birds with crows wings
shadows playing in corners.
Illusions like a disease.
Eyes of lovely hate.
All to bring down membranes.
Destroy obedience,
pillage hearts
and
leave
nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem