I see his figure, ghastly and appalling.
erected tall and sharp like an obelisk.
His face pallid, only hollow eyes distinguished
As if they carry the center of gravity.
Eyes like endless tunnels. I can't see the light.
Like the gloomy days of a cold winter
he trudges his way to me
He stretches his arm, an invitation to days unlived.
"Take my hand" he said,
a voice as destructive as an earthquake.
Shaking, I rest my palm on his
an arcane cold takes home my hollowed chest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A hauntingly beautiful work, its like a vision of a nightmare come to life, your description of the figure is wonderfully evocative and frightening, is it a figure of death, or a vision of a future self (the title hints at that for me) either way its a relentlessly terrifying vision, that was wonderful to read. Thank you for sharing.