long nights of terror
there were no terrorists
save ourselves,
the victims.
the horse in bronze
rose on stone block
rose facing weather
and gales and soon
some storm.
I that face tempests
everyday almost
I pray that I find
the key that unlocks
so many locked doors
that bar themselves to me.
I that face tempests.
I
Poet Seer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem