In the center of my eye's a small guillotine-
See- if you squint, you can sometimes see the frame.
In my brain’s the morgue, where the warm ones brought,
Sans heads, after the foul deed's done.
Every day, I must kill the ones who want love;
The ones who would have given anything for it.
Their unmarked graves are scattered about-
For those thoughts, unrequited- I must bleed out.
Huge expression here, it really dark..you vomit all out and it turn to be precious ink here, with haunted illusion..beautiful and like SG, i like it a lot too.. :) _Unwritten Soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice dark poem. It seems like it's about regret over disappointing others to me. I enjoyed it.