Tiny space Many voices
In my ear Inside my head
Reverberating
Talk to me And I stare
Out of here
Where we float
Flying coffin
And I see fire from hell
Down below
clouds from heaven
In above
We are stuck In the middle
Where senses strain As ears
To trace Feelings of inevitability
Of overhanging dread
And so it happens
Not a story book But life
And as evidence
There is us
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem