Come sleep,
Come sweet, silent euthanasia,
Today I bore my burden
And I was graceless,
I'm tired,
I was failing,
For me to say I'm fine
You'd see me waning,
The lies,
Written on my face
That sorrow scribed,
Couldn't be erased
Or liberated with a smile,
I spun around, now seek to soothe,
Whatever halts the earth to move,
My palm embraced my face so much,
It became a scarf that veiled the front,
My shoulders slumped,
Posture poor,
Mangled mane & muzzle roar,
My scope of vision's poor,
I've not the wherewithal to fully see,
I'll take the loss,
So long as my wins are more,
As soon as I see tomorrow,
I'll be prepared to fight again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem