Atrocities of death leaving us in a quandary of dishevelment,
not knowing where to turn.
Sorrow drenches us at every turn, not letting us escape it's
blackened grasp.
We must learn to be open to life, finding pathways we can
climb out of canyons of misery, living life as best we can in
our human lives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem