Frost is warm
flowers bleed
drain the venom from a seed
Awake the dead
there in my head
make a cene
its time to scream
The dead are walking
there also talking
can't shut them up
so mutch in my cup
Laying on my bed
with the dead still in my head
I drink the pills
they gave me thrills
In my sleep i pass away
tomorrow ill seeno time nor day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem