affected with grace,
with this tired taboo,
this blindfold on my face,
my hands searching for you.
my life hanging on a thread,
and no breath within,
cant see whats ahead,
death runs up my skin.
i cant feel the stars above my head,
i have nothing left,
you whisper 'he has bled',
my angel turns to death.
suffocating, nautically,
abstracting, anidiomatically,
advancing, slowly,
absconding, UNLIKELY.
blindfolds aside i still close my eyes,
thanks god...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem