Everywhere I turned
He was there,
On every street corner
I walked past’
His eyes were lurking.
All my dreams
He made a nightmare,
He was the monster
In every dark room’
Always there knocking
At my door,
At night popping those bulging eyes
Shining those fangs
As he drew the first blood,
The sheets carry the red oil
That made mother’s soup sweet.
When you swung that hammer
You set me free,
When you took a life
You saved a soul,
If its absolution you want
I give it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem