The loudest silence,
those silent tears,
the empty audience,
embracing your fears,
how scared you must feel,
running through bad dreams,
feeling tired and overly ill,
exhausted even though you win,
these foolish nightmares of ours,
telling us that our love is wrong,
telling us that we can never be ours,
showing that bliss is very wrong,
what nightmares have afflicted our love,
making it feel like its lust,
why cant we call this feeling love,
feeling as though we are lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem