In the lunar world of shades
Tell me how things are unmade
Storms in opal hearts
Vapors of undreamt minds
A vale restraining demons
His bloodhound face
An albino crocodile
The shape shifting dead
Shuffling around in slab corpse colors
Sparks and smoke filling their suits
Often unloved and eternally mute
Torments that put on flesh
A claw clutching on the brain
Living carcasses consumed
A child king pronounces a judgment
The ghoul points toward unanointed heads
Eternity hangs suspended
The trumpet cracked in the angel's hand
The face in the rose
Lucid blood rimmed eyes
A burst of energy from a coffin cocoon
Victims calling from graves
In the lunar world of shades
Tell me how they are unmade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem