Before the edge.
Cast by the shadow.
Before dawn.
Blood flows freely off my blade.
I am made.
Wrists are screaming.
Eyes are bleeding.
My tears runs rivers red.
Where I dream.
Angels to not talk.
Demons do not fly.
Where I walk.
To and when.
I will die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this! Beautifully written! !