It was one of those nights, dreaming in a castle of angst in a flourish. I was awakened by a figure who had the voluptuous body of a damsel in a far-flung castle.
“Dani.” The figure had said.
I ran.
I ran until
I found the exit.
But the exit held
A number of doors (there were four)
Upon those doors were inscribed
Shatter
Fracture
Impale
Incise
But you see,
I am maniacal,
I frantically ran towards
The door that had Shatter on it
I have loved the word
Shatter so much
Because to shatter
Is ubiquitous.
The moment I opened the door,
A mystical force of nebulous contempt
Girdled me close to the end,
Sent me to a pit,
Head first,
And there,
My head collided to the still grounds.
I suffered a shattered skull.
Now I wonder if I took
The other doors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem