Living Is Suffering Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Wandering on that desolate plain
With shabby clothing full of holes
And gashes:
Round
Round
The cruel wind pinched
And the sea sounds were rending
More rending as the heart was bleeding
Inside
There's itchiness even in the forehead
That with the head bends here
There
Sullen the ground hurts conspiring
With the vague pains before the eyes
Like as to a leper
Saw the town not far in the mirage
Yet could not enter.