There, each stood amongst the others decrees.
What was not fair was apparent, destiny.
As it were, and always now will be, to each their own.
But amongst what?
For now, entangled, themselves amongst each other.
... After waking alone, the pressure was almost unbearable, there was no moving; arm leg foot or finger. The urge to scream was nearly devoured by the confinement. Vaporous silence is all, arousing what never should of have been; instigating one struggle after another. Here now is the only comfort, for it is all that has ever been known; what is known has become.
Arriving, the final seconds each timeless.
Now
Mercy will be the only quest.
And even with mercy as ones own will, a hand of vengeance has been won.
All that lies there in lies upon that hand, why carry what can be consumed?
... from thine mouth then, these have been repeated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem