The desolate graveyards of yesterday's tears
Are lying below me in wilderness clears
The pale spectral faces that wait behind doors
They gather before me o'er bleak granite floors
These ghosts of my nightmares drift silently on
As this tempest rages so long before dawn
The midnight's dark voices in hallways, resound
As I feel the presence of spirits earthbound
Night whispers, they're calling, as strange as it seems
These voices enthralling in ominous dreams
Strange visions I'm knowing, so ghostly, congeal
In Luna's bright glowing o'er landscapes surreal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem