No light shines through the cracked old windows. The stairs are warpped and broken. The door hangs nearly off the hinges. Spiderwebs and dust cover the walls. If you listen you can hear distant voices in the dark. Is it an imprint of the past? The house is cold and dark but somehow you never feel alone.
(2010)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem