All I see is blindness and all I hear is mute,
When speech becomes silent, minds offer dispute
And if my words become reticent, and I hate lines on hands
Would I bring purpose to this life, or keep falling till I land?
Some say I've lost composure, I think I've lost my mind
Yet each day I wake up to hope, Solace I would find.
Will there be redemption? Am I what I despise?
Quandaries stand to confuse, early sunset or late sunrise?
And if regrets are my wings where, depression is the sky,
Is it right to curse my fate, If I can't help but fly?
Now I see the boundaries, now I fear the walls,
Again I feel mistaken, No longer I walk tall.
Then I saw the azure sky, feel is all I had to bind,
Pain becomes my new addiction, is this insanity or free mind?
My faiths go euphemistic, inside I feel I'm void
When trust itself betrays your fate, life makes you paranoid.
And if death offers the same peace with which,
life made us feel deprived
Quandaries stand to confuse
Early sunset or late sunrise?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem