Porcelain, white
My hate, your blight
I’ll see it through
My pure ingénue
Scarlet, silk
Diluted by filth
I’ll see it through
My pure ingénue
Empty, saved
Eight, engraved
Purity in pain
Love in disdain
A knife is a medium
My strife, your delirium
I’ve seen it through
You’ll see it too
Delved, dug
A push, a shove
I’ve seen it through
And bid you adieu
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem