Deadmen March, in the silent chant
the whispers echo in my soul
Feelings slither into my being
Unfamiliar thoughts cloud
A shroud over my mortal core
The story is written in blood and pain
the ghostly kisses i embrace
even the shadow of my soul in chains
My life obsolete
In the presence of my demons
I am but an idea, concieved and lost
as i disappear, i understand
secret battles we must all face
But our demons instill valor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem