Grotesque minds that wind about the pillow
barely shut my eyes to fade with some phantom in the twilight,
Twitching thoughts in the back of my blinded retinas
sing so unvertently with the stars that circle my head,
that all I could do is lay there half asleep.
Resplendent dreams bleed through the pillow's cotton,
softly sinking in my bed to feed all my growing nightmares,
My body in seizure to the thoughts that fell from head wonderland,
dancing and waltzing so crudely along my aching body,
that all I could do is watch as they slowly kill me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem