They snarl and screech,
In my darken room.
They mutter and mumble,
In my mind.
They thump and thud,
Against the closet door.
They slither and sneak,
From the dark shadows.
They make me shriek and howl,
From the agony they cause.
Wicked and demented,
They are my demons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very dark and brooding and a little melancholy good write Nik