the sickness is eating me,
From within the macbre mouth
sucks me dry
until there is no body saveable,
only death in his black silks,
and funeral smile,
in all politeness beckons me to come,
I would be his wholly and eternally if life wasnt my sacred lover,
to withstand each day in agonizing suffering,
is to kiss my living lover,
the dance of death will have to wait!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem