Screaming. Screaming in the all but still night is all that is heard by silent voices. The creatures stiffen at the cries of the moon as it scurries on all fours to escape the killers chilling clutches.
Bur through the thick waterfall is somthing that is perfect for the moon's escape, as it is pulled in by the gravitational pull, one word comes to mind as the pack breaks down the barriers of fear. Hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem