Voices drift in from the endless night
Telling you they long to see the light
You whisper to them don't give up the fight
one day they too will have the gift of sight
Though answers are near there tied down by hate
But when they arrive you forget that they're late
Though it seems sometimes it's controlled by fate
You will never forget the thoughts they create
As the soft voices turn to howls of despair
The damage it's done you can never repair
You desperately long for someone to care
As you call into the night, it just isn't fair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem