only in the lucidity of madness,
anchored deep in the exquisite screams of melancholy,
was the birth of my humanity made possible.
in the profound beauty of impenetrable solitude,
somewhere between the contempt and compromise of existence,
an insatiable greed to oblivion had found echo in the desolation of complicity.
from the warm fires of creation
to the blistering heat of final damnation,
there lay solace in the lost swagger and collapse of fabricated confidence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem