This fragile house of light and love has darkened.
Teeming words of magic have fled from the page.
Everything is descending into a vast chasm.
I'm lost in labyrinths of animal howls;
Far away from treasured, ethereal realms;
Where I suppose the angels are now weeping.
Crude, irrational fears have captured sanity.
Febrile imagination is a curse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem