Cold hands,
like iron fetters,
wrap themselves around my wrists,
covering scars,
that would otherwise,
bleed visible.
I feel my lungs deflate,
as you gently tug the,
breaths I give,
Stealing life,
in return I'm given death,
'The sleep of eternity,
Falls heavy on already closed eyelids.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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