Our wrists attached themselves
As if they activated incendiarism;
Our destiny suddenly flashed
Before our once-murky vision,
Fires, deluge, exponential storms
Futility swallowed hostility
Honey, are we mitigators
Or irreparable destruction?
There’s no time to think
Let’s break apart everything
That holds us down, these guts
Will be our final salvation
Let the metronome bask
In its last rhythms; we reign
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem