This lonesome morning is staring starkly in the mirror
of my reflection, taunting me, watching for any sign
of tears it's trying to elicit from within me.
Laughing because there are no more to shed, they have
been depleted by this long and tired life of pain and
suffering.
Living no more, finding the nest of death, waiting and
being comfortable here, knowing soon it will all be over
and I will be taken into heaven where I belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem