Kneeling before the bed,
dry tears come across my face.
The aroma of dormancy I pray for.
To never again see the morning...
The dawning...
The new day...
This is what I pray.
Sleep is where I wish to wake,
leave behind the world,
to drift off of sanity's edge
and land in sweet dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem