If my cries get wild,
And my sobs redundant,
My eyes won't dry
'Cause the drips are meaningful.
I will search in all labyrinths,
Down the dry and wet pastures,
Up the hostile mushroomed societies,
Through the thorny thickets,
Until my comfort zone is on board.
The mocks won't deter my motive,
Nor my ulterior motives bar progression.
Laughing my pain out,
Steering my timid fears unruefully,
Claiming the lawful rights passionately,
Will be all that I long and work for.
Being forsaken will always be a challenge,
Ample reason to bulge into action,
Being wary not to choose the same err,
Which would regretfully detriment the results.
Claiming possession and uprightly maintaining is my intimate dear wish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem