Because my demons are;
not unlike your own.
The walk I walk, you talk
it's quite, white come early dawn.
Back inside my head
at night
stays hidden in the room.
Behind those eyes
the demons hide the look
that shaped your
face.
I am to far from home.
My demons are the shadowed
shapes
that can not change the dark.
Daylight when it comes
shifts
shadows shaped
the demons are my own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem