A wash of hopelessness and solemnity rains over him, a fresh-fallen layer of sickly darkened snow.
Lashes of fabric, heavy with disappointment pull towards feet, of which have been morphed together, bound by splitting, earth-shattering longing.
He finally shakes the weights off his lashes and as they crash to the earth, trembling, he comes to open his eyes.
As the soft lips part, he sees he is encaged.
And that he has no mouth.
And the screaming is contained in his chest and stomach where its piercing shrieks scratch his organs to ribbons, bouncing off walls and slowly slithering down apertures bleeding profusely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem