Deadly forest I drink in your cyanide
Dragon wingtips they're fickle images
They only drown or burn within me
Such is the sun's orange glowing dredges.
Polystyrene in permafrost I'm so, fake
I can only wish I could turn to rust
Close my eyes with cabin fever and slake
Like a disease, just for a godly, chemist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem