I sit in the dark,
With a single light above my head,
All around me is the abstract of black,
A healthy tree stands in front of me,
Like a painting, or a world I dare not step in,
But behind that tree is my enemy,
The wind breezes a chilly scream,
The silences soaks as a deadly disease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem