It is midnight
In the loom
Gloom holds one name
That's Steven
Its been the mistake
we've all made
We're all murderers
subtle killers
The word is guilt
innocence dissolved
back into the void
& there I
saw your hand
reach to mine
like angels wings
far & wide
The mirrors are not
mirrors it is like
black glass
My eyes are scissors
& they'll cut you so deep
& gut you so neat
A face of the girl I knew
suckin' in smoke
Started out with love
but romance is a joke
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem