I dream of silence a day when the
voices are dead. I long for freedom,
for love, but the madness remains.
Shadows dancing in the half light or
reason calling out my name as if I
were a mystical child. Into the
dreamy world of the shadows I
descend searching for the truth or
maybe the end, perhaps they are the
same. The mad riders from some
other world now approach and I pray that I
might hear the angels sing, but again
only the crackling song of insanity remains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem