Blackened soul
Death collects his toll
Rain patters on the road
My soul about to explode
I feel the sting of the blade
Because i am afraid
Every breath i take
Makes me quake
The words in my throat
Are all doted
To the life
Of angry strife
Always the one who gets left behind
Because i am not blind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Could be wisdom in hiding