Stalk me through this jungle,
Depressed, stressed and death-obsessed.
Lengthy vines clasp my
Neck. I can't breathe.
They're winding, Father.
Save me with your Holy Hand!
For I am no longer mortal;
The shadowed ghouls have consumed me
And I have become one of them.
I fade.
You remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem