As I sit here
Clenching the clinging fibers
Around the hilt of my heavy soul-
The lit torch in my eyes sheds its last ashen embers
Bleeding flames dry
Flickering, dancing no more.
Boastful pride fades into severing servitude-
Broken, inglorious, despair.
A voyage Into the shuddering shadows of dank dementia.
Thick smog of
Darkened dreams cloak the seas of my thoughts,
Blocking a burdened heart
To my cryptic tomb.
Static, dull, dredged in the oils of memories
Enslaved by fretting fools,
By drama’s devil,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem