Its chain cut again…
the demon is loose
Deep into the night,
she hunts darker truths
The hallway's back stairs,
her favorite retreat
Pending daylight's return,
when her bite becomes weak
Then she staggers back wounded
to shadows that call
Old blood trails lead silent
down that dark lonely hall
Where a door is rechained,
and its lock fastened tight
Until a hacksaw appears
—with the next moonless night
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February,2016)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem