There is a letter under my bed,
In the darkest corner, waiting to be read.
There is a meaning in each word -
A silence no one else has heard.
I feel it's sharpness, the quick pain,
It ripples through each of my veins.
If it kills me, who will hear
That letter of mine filled with fear?
'The one I loved, my bestfriend, my dear...'
No words of mine are insincere
But, cut short my love, the end draws near.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem