I can hear
no one listening
and I want
to go inside
the quiet chambers
of solitude,
far away from the noise
of this world.
Too much humanity
hurts my ears,
tears at my spirit,
and numbs me,
until I no longer know
if tomorrow
will find me
a warrior, still.
But the crying skies
and ancient voices
have become
a part of me.
Though I grow tired,
they will not let me rest
until I have fulfilled
my prophecy.
I cannot ignore
this path,
it would
make me lost.
I cannot close my heart
to caring,
it would make me
forget myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good poem, poetry could be called the art of loneliness.