Hate when cultivated,
by defeated love,
invents,
instruments to ruin,
all with blindness,
and cold winds rush to fill, the vacuum,
with havoc of storm,
ugly smiles ripple,
on face of revenge,
spitting distasteful love.
now you wake up rubbing your eyes,
someone knocking at your door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem