Is this life all fire and brimstone?
How crudely my heart is chipped away
Imprisoned elaborately, carved like bone.
Lord, is my poor soul its stowaway
Does it form some sort of Fabergé egg?
Shaped by all these torments of hell
Most of my life has been statuesque
Lord, who will finally break its shell
... All our prayers are with you & yours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem