Demons of another kind,
Gentle touch that could blind
Cold shoulder or spitting fire,
Neither a crisis nor desire
Just a note the angel plays;
A requiem for dying days
Pouring pity, pouring hate
A stain etched on to the eternal slate
Foe or friend?
We could find out if there were actually an end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like how u connect the aspects of a demon in this poem.. brilliant imagery fantastic poem