It was there at the stroke of midnight.
I found my mind lost in depth of thought,
digging a solitary grave deep within me.
Obscurities shadow watched down from the tower
trembling tenacity with great fear,
I could not bring my self to see what was inside.
Taunting voices in distorted crescendo.
consume every particle of light,
It was then I knew for sure!
There were..(Voices-In-The-Attic)
Entities from which to draw sustenance,
An array of sleepy living knowledge,
Our willing unity open the door,
releasing my mind from its prison,
finally awakening from my coma
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem