Two figures in a house of echoes,
Where walls breathe secrets, close and cold.
Each morning dawns with leaden light,
A gray pall over fractured minds.
We share a bed, but dreams divide,
Our thoughts like twisted vines entwined.
Your voice, a mirror of my own,
Reflects the madness we both hide.
The air is thick with unsaid fears,
Words stick like thorns in our raw throats.
We navigate this maze of grief,
Blindfolded, bound by unseen ropes.
Your eyes, they flicker, darkened flames,
Mine too, a mirror of your pain.
We stumble through the endless night,
Two shadows lost, but holding tight.
In silence, we both drown and scream,
Each other's ghost in every dream.
Together in this cursed dance,
We fall apart with every chance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem