Cut out your tongue to sing this song
Bleed through memories to get along
She's sinking deep in silent grief
Married to all her disbelief
She clung to hope where there was none
Hung to cope her ceilings gone
She gave away the final show
Her expiration date was old
And what was sold were pretty lies
where pretty knives cut lonely wives
Despised queens of chess games
Hidden in their chests graves
Decadent slaves to buried pains
Unraveled trash sown neatly frays
Where simple Sundays save the sinner
And the devil serves your dinner
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the opening the line of this poem...You have a good writing style, I will read more of your work..GOD bless