there was a knock at my door
i thought was a friend
so i opened it wide
and let him in
i welcomed him in
filled his thirst
fed his hunger
then me he cursed
he ate my body
he drank my blood
sucked out my life
as much as he could
he chewed me up
spit me out
my life was another
for his sick count
as i lay there dying
he reached for my chest
ripped out my heart
its what he does best
my heart in his hands
his icey cold stare
he played with me so
he did not care
it is what he came for
the beast
was to steal my heart
it was his feast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
True, very true. in my own way this poem totally speaks to me