I hear the words
Inside my head –
They whisper to me
When I am lucky.
But when they’re silent
The screaming begins
The great black pit opens
And the feeling of death
Comes too soon,
So I must hope to survive
Until the next poem is written
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sounds like a nightmare I used to have, truly. Glad to meet you here, Fred. I want to read many more of your poems.