I’m without a name,
faceless, faithless,
a myth unremembered through
the dawning sands of time—
but my thoughts are worth more
than your shiny, copper coins.
Now we’ll all have our seizures,
empty kisses as the devil cheers
(it’s just a coping mechanism) .
This violence allays the numbing sensations;
everybody has a season of pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like it. Read mine - Who Am I - Adeline