The things we want,
That we try to hold onto,
We grasp at with every inch of our soul,
Claw at with wrecked fingernails
Screaming damnation,
Will always slip away.
I will never understand that
Day will have its night,
That you will have to leave my side.
I rip at the nerves that make me feel,
And sew them to the embodiment of salvation.
Salvation.
Mixed with the security of no sensation.
Take away my pain,
Take away the futile anguish, that I will feel for you,
Take me with you, when you have to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem