Wearing these shredded garments of happiness,
I journey into the abyss.
Dragging each step to suffer more-
Learning to sustain my final burn.
Master-less!
I eagerly pursuit the black crow.
Slither journey in soberly awareness,
Torture my soul with Needles.
Blue heavens crown my fields of gold-
Hundreds of pathways sprung with natures essence,
Fill my sight and heart.
'My insanities rhapsody of a man made of straw'
Longing for real life.
Tempted!
Tempted to breath;
Lusting my final sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem