Fading into the shades of reality
Becoming fantasies ghost
Adhering myself to loners wall
In pains fountain you drink your sorrows
Hear it you
Hear it me
Whichever it is no matter
The game has no fancy of either
Both left to drizzle crimson ribbons across the floor
No happiness left for the game
Disgust has rusted in us the same
Finished
Through
Though my heart still gushes for you
Metal dancers on cream for us both
Loves gate whips at our backs hurrying us through
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem