I Am Salqiu, The Pandemic Moan
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In this lost garden of souls
Words do not form speech
As sound has fallen
This mute song
For the God of the Dead
Spreads its chagrin disease
The song turns a corpse
Shadowing shroud remains
It Howls in charming method
Lamenting
Rhythmically
Who sees me, perfidious
In the shadow of the trapdoor?
Ricocheting light?
Inexpiable in my punishment?
I sing fatality
So
Would you follow?
The loose breathe
Torn against the massive sky
At the abyss it craters
An incessant deception
Drags you to the depths
In unholy land
Lightning crawls for this God
This God of loneliness
Riding the shoulders of Hell
I am miserable and disturbing
I loathe myself to bereft the landscapes
Vest them with devastated trees
Endow them in crestfallen men
A bestiary rushing up
Shaking all
That unforeseen dawn
Sings me as sullen
Wistful but patient
Radiating the pain
Diffusing the vastness
Of my pandemic moan