You breathe, but it is not thy breath.
You feel, but it is not thy feelings.
I creep a cold steep grade. Pulling you with me.
Your dreams have become mine as I consume you.
A golden sword through thy soul.
You know there is not a due, but it's I who comes for you.
I am here, but not as well.
Caught between thy temperance.
I am taking you to my hell.
Black I am not nor thy true blue.
It is I my lost friend.
'Thy Grey' It is nice to meet you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem