Lying in bed, looking at the ceiling, wondering why
I cannot get up.
Reluctantly waking, mind thinking of you, a tired
bleakness filling me within.
Not wanting to face another day without you, feeling
your silence so intently.
It carries me into depths of my being, trying to find
an iota of meaning.
But there is none, no understanding either, being
buried in the midst of death's insistence.
Never trying to free self from it's grasp, only wanting
to hold onto you my love, forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem