I'm free to look thru matte windows,
To run happy between the doors of solitude
Noone will whip me if I bring offers to the new god
I discovered at midnite
Or judge me for the archangel bodies hidden in the chest
I'm free to break life's dusty clocks
Dissecting a tear
To fall asleep guarded by morgans dragged on the ground smelling like blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem