The shadow of the spectre looms..
Engulfing senses -
threatening
to inhale souls
trembling,
teetering on the edge
of the abyss
of emptiness,
grief,
hopelessness..
Where is the lifeline,
the thing to hold onto -
as the vacuum sucks in
the waning dissipating
sorrowing soul..
Who will hold it back
from the destructor's gaping yawn,
from the ever hungry jaws
of forever death?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem