It's out there, they know me.
I can't walk the streets freely,
Their eyes are all on me,
Filled with fire that burns within,
I know that they know me,
I can't face their judgments,
I'm not righteous,
They know that I feel guilty,
The blame is on me,
I'm known as the killer,
As the coldhearted,
And as the breath taker.
I carry the heaviness
of a death person's blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem