oh writhering creature, you died along time ago
gone was your soul, floating accross the plains
to borders of unknown
i keep afloat in this world
my mind is powerful
i keep hold of my soul, in a dying world
this world is governed by appearance and
fakery
be what you are and you soul will be blessed
once more
feed on your senses to gain your wisdom
It is not that of a tortued soul
it is that of a tortued world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem