I pray thee in the temple of gloom
with a smile of shining saber in my room
I whisper words the wind may not know
and somehow keep them deep in the hollow
I deeply groan in the roaring sea
with on my tongue a rusty lance one cannot see
then come red-eyed seagulls with burning breath
caring of my wounds with painful death
In the howling night the tranquil mind I beseech
like an old shaman takes blood with a leech
thus off my soul to the bleak cloud goes,
to alienation, strangled in the bliss foes
The nights fly
The days bye
The hollows cry
My Lord, I shall not try
Kaki Merapi, 24 Mei 2011
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