Nocturnal me
Drawn blinds
Whispers scream in the absence of life
I've survived what the rest succumbed to
Eyelids propped by worries
Counting sheep's for shepherds
I count the wasted days gone by
All I am is days
All I have is time
What we are is more
What you see is what should be least considered
Bewitching, but foul
Let us scent or souls
How many remain fragrant
Putrid streams form a trail behind beautiful faces
The night crawls where the days run
These pink pills I take
Their name too long and cumbersome to speak with affection
It brings reprieve
In just a little time
For just a little while
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem