Volos today stunk of bleach.
The sun was hiding behind his sick paleness,
and music scratched my ears,
but did not touch my soul.
I felt alone,
surrounded by a voiceless crowd
of faceless people,
drowned inside my thoughts
of what had happened to me
miles and days way…
of what was going to happen…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem