I sense a demonic presence,
a dark aura,
and a pressure, a worry
that at any movement I make,
my bones will snap and my muscles will crystalize
so curled up in a ball, I cry
tears of granite form under my eyelids
and my throat turns to sandpaper as I sob silently to the only person for galaxies - myself
So I let my heavy body relax
set all my troubles free
I let myself go
to roll of the brink of the cliff
hoping that when I awake
all will be well as it was long ago...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem