My mind let loose into a maze,
A labyrinth of dark corridors and rooms.
Red flashes in the dark speak of death.
I had come in doors with no doors;
No, it’s not me,
I’m just a spectator.
A long fat hand stretches out,
Two slender strong fingers
Pierce into my throat.
I sweat and fly out windows with no windows.
I know I’m still there;
I’m still trapped.
It’s recurring with utmost precision;
The fake dark and the dark dream,
Long fat hand with slender fingers
Zooming into my throat.
I don’t have any fear,
But fearless is no freedom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem