I feel breath wasting,
As time is pacing on a terrible dream,
When in my coffin my shoes they are lacing,
And with a knife they are tracing,
Here is orange sunshine,
And cataracts caused me to blind,
And death was truly very kind,
I feel this soul,
Waiting I am ready to be lying in a hole,
And orange sunshine swallowed me whole,
Dark circles under my eyes thought to be drawn with coal,
No I wasnt ready,
Coffin holders carry me steady,
My disease wasnt deadly,
For it was only orange sunshine,
COPYRIGHT BEN SPARACO POEMS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow I like, So much detail, Great imagination!