If it is wrong why does it feel so right?
Why would darkness appear in the fragrance of light?
If it is a mistake then why is the Inner-Me striving to earn it?
If it is wrong why does my heart fight to claim it?
I see a Lily all alone in a city of thorns;
the warnings on high walls,
the demons and horns.
Yet I long for her petals like a bee,
for the Lily in the city outgrown with thorns is the one for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem