Hanging on the rusty chains of this dark lair,
I, trapped breathless, was rotten in time
My sweat trickled down to my cheek and
Drip- drop- drip- dropp all they went.
Tick- tock-tick- tock,
Went the old clock.
The short hand pointed on seven;
The long hand pointed on twelve.
Grasping for breath,
I tried to reach to something
To get up
But I was nerveless,
I was like a soul ready to enter the hell.
Except, I was able to see
Through the corner of my eye.
There, I see black butterflies prancing, taunting.
A kiss came to my toes; that was ticklish.
Then I concluded my time ends in
Five- four- three- two…a siren I heard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem