There is a haze that surrounds me
a fog that blurs my vision
and mutes my senses
it clings to me
weaving it's dense grayness
into my hair
seeping through my clothes
clinging to my skin
weighing me down
making it hard for me to move
I've grown tired of struggling
of resisting this haze
perhaps I'll leave it be
and lie down here
and sleep instead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem