You bathe in my blood,
You gargle in my tears.
Draining my essence,
You thrive upon my fears.
There is no truth in love,
There is no point in hate.
Therefore I die alone -
There is no love in fate.
My luck is my own problem,
My death is my own fault.
Do not apologize,
My heart might somersault.
And up from the grave I come,
And faced with you again,
I climb back in my tomb,
And wait for your life to end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem