for things we like to do
we just do them and then for things we do not like doing
we always say, ' i still have time'
and time has no mercy for without us it goes
and then gone
and for all the things we have not done
we still say, ' i still have time'
and then there is this sunset that fades too quickly
orange to black, and then the world is too dark and silent and cold
for all the things that we have not done
time is dead and we have not done
the things that we should have done
time is too short for those that we love to do
the sinful ones
time is too long for those that we ought to do
those that could have opened the doors for our salvation
time is dead and then we are gone
regret laughs the hardest and the door to hell opens like the mouth of the
mad one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem