I have beaten the bush
and made my way through the fuss
I have kept the faith
and turned myself into horrid
if this would be the last dance
let me take the last waltz
if this would mean the last kiss
let me lock my lips to yours
(though it will taste bitter medicine)
if this would be my last writings
let me finish it with a vivid palette
and never an unendurable pain will reflect
never an angst will fest
never an illness will symptomize
and only my smile
will remain eternally etched
on a fateful night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem