A tiny house
I walk through the door, leaving the light on
Only the shadow follows me
I look at it
I feel its loneliness, the sorrow it sears
Why is that so, is it mirror of me?
It stays quiet, screaming its pain
Walks right beside me, following me like a destiny
Sneaking like a hunter, feeding of me
When did I become it's pray….or did I?
I run
I run like hell
I run to the light, and it grows like a hill
Run to the next corner; it is still next to me
No, I can't outrun it
It's there, it's my fate
It's what it needs to be
It is me…
It is me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem