Peering behind the clouds
Angels are playing
While I'm the odd one out
Frolicking, strumming their golden harps
Gazing with vicious envy
With the plucking of each string
My heart begins to turn stark
To the sickening flow of their melody
Darker and darker
My pumping organ
Filled with blood, but now
Drenching in void
'Odd one out, ' they call
To the one that they avoid
Abruptly they stop
There...
Is...
No...
Sound...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem