Anger building up inside, putting pressure on my mind.
Going ahead, ignoring it's pain, looking out at life,
it's glory hidden, seeking inside, answers to it's
plight.
Reverberating through memories filled with aching,
trying to find a place in life, that's not so vacant.
Holding down the anger until is dissipates and dies,
finding other pathways to fill it's final days.
Wanting nothing left, but emptiness, stepping aside and
letting death fill it with stately, regal, domesticated
pride.
There being not a thing in life worth fighting for,
laying aside all feelings of worth.
Finally having found some meaning, never knowing that it
has.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem