I told myself a lie finding a new way inside.
Painting it all of blood and screams.
The rise and fall of dreams.
No leftover scars for inspiration.
No name to remind me of that place.
Where your mind becomes a maze.
A shredding of mutation.
A twisted cause for convenience.
A sever problem with amputation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem