Shallow are the crabs
Laying near the bottom of the heap.
Pinching and clawing those near the top!
Wanting more darkness.
Wanting the light shown to stop.
And rotten is the smell,
Preferred and enjoyed.
Tough of crust,
And a sting of venom.
In a barrel that's enjoyed.
To eat themselves and keep...
Trapped.
Devoured.
Until there is nothing left,
But remnants of a ravenous activity.
And scarred shells...
That have begun a rusting into dust!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem