My lips are caught, bewilderment,
an episode without an end
I offer my breath to you
if it be the last one too
fire is the spirit burning
from your eyes no turning
back into the trap of lies
ah I sense one more stanza
from your tender hands
keeping me from those flies
of death I so despise
yet linger to! M
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such an excellent write, Madrason.....