Woe be to the lonely heart
For it cries silent tears
Its unseen pain is hidden by daily deeds
Oh the night when twilight gleams
The heart spins in words
Stopping to create a verse of loneliness
It sings of its lament
Heard only by its soul
Mournful sorrows deep and dark
Chains dragging against the being
The clunk of the door closing on its captive
Locking despair in the cold cell of hell
Empty and cold the surroundings be
The dungeon of hopelessness
The pit of mortal abandonment
Vultures flog bout’
Waiting for the moment
Ripping the eyes of love from their very sockets
Insanity and madness
Knock upon the door
Slithering their way through the cracks
Eating the flesh revealing their prize
The delicacy it graves, the heart
Leaving a black hole for what once the source of love
Woe be to the lonely heart
For its tears are never heard
Dying slowly of a silent death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very sad but nicely done John