I lay in a warm bed of anger,
Comforted by my rage,
Tempted to never rise,
Caressed by this angry lullaby,
My eyes close,
I feel its warm embrace,
It wraps me up but its touch is turning cold,
Its squeezes me I can feel it in my bones,
I'm changing turning into stone,
My once warm bed is no longer so
This tomb of anger is now my home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem