The days crawl by at a sluggish pace.
While I am trapped here in this hellish place.
To be at home and with you, my love.
Would surely be a miracle from above.
For I must have sinned a many time.
To be stuck here in this dirt and grime.
I dream of home, and I dream of you.
A dream that home is within my view.
But hell is just the first step of many.
Next all of my emotions will be drained, if any.
This place is hell, that I know.
For I have watched the hatred grow.
The sorrow settles, and the sadness swells.
What else could it be but hell?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem