Suede linings off the shine from the moon.
Who will tell what to whom before noon.
Letters engraved with words from your mouth.
My stitches are torn, you will never have enough.
I bleed, i burn.
My need, my turn.
I say, i pray.
I crave to be saved.
Before the surrender, i break for my sake.
I am pale in the dark, i am lost to be found.
I am screaming while my demons are the ones, who feeds off my soul.
I smell the hollow through their bark.
I become a dark hole.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem