Hard to maintain
This flux of bitterness
That I've been upholding
Since I crossed into myself
The never-ending doubt
In which I've been kept condemned
Something I would've been better off without
Hard to understand
These thoughts
To which my body takes effigy
A complex streak of demand
Of worry, of wonder
Something no one could withstand
In such great amounts
Ample features
Mostly flaws
And the notion
The inner commotion
When I am to see it all
Before the end
I will mend my wounds
Only so I could withstand the tempest
To define the beauty of the passing storm
Today, far past the wicked coast
I come and make my mark
A milestone to all who wander
Who've seen what I have too
The dark
Now on the foothills of the future
I feel I'm loosing myself
Letting go and following the tide
Of motionless ignorance
Of bliss and warmth
Come forth and read the inscription
On the stone
The only mark I've ever left
And know you're not alone
I've been there too
I've seen the beauty of the storm
I've been beaten and I've been blue
I've been that way since I was born
Hold my hand
And witness and define
The beauty of the passing storm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem