I was pushed into a Well of Dark Loneliness.
It hunted down my ears with sweet words.
It hunted down my eyes with beautiful moments.
It hunted down my heart with dear rememberer's.
My soft tiny heart is speared by two sharp spears.
My dark lonely well is colored with its spilling blood.
My knee caps supported me from falling down.
My hands stroked the ground very hard to rise.
My eyes turn red while watering with pain to rise.
My speared heart pulled those spears out in pain.
My wounded heart started to heal and beat.
Now it can rise from any dark well with smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what an honor of hope....never the pendulum of pain conquers our suffering.....instead stand look up high find the distance light....there is the point to see and touch the wisdom of a new day....you have a such a very beautiful concept of Rise......God bless...a 10 +++++