Creaks
Going up and down.
In small, bare feet.
Slivers
Of light.
Through old doors.
Creaky, hesitant peeking.
Crossing the threshold,
Into rough darkness,
Shaded,
Invariant grey,
Flowing into membranous night.
Outlines,
Half-formed.
Sketched into the dark.
Countless tears,
Seeping through the sheet
Descending in starry wonder.
Holes.
Empty, cold, pure.
Oozing red agony.
Tinkling.
The sound of death.
The dark glass
In her grip
Shatters.
Light.
Cold, cruel, empty.
Sketching forms.
Outlined.
Out of line.
Outlived.
Erebor,
Cold, dark, brimful,
Of Lust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem