I see the jet black walls.
Red Oozing out of the ceiling.
You see it happening.
You feel their is nothing left.
Listening to the sounds of the wind.
Calling for himto go down a certain path.
Im changing my direction.
Not even 'God' can Smite me down.
I lead my own life.
No one can tell me where to go.
What to do.
Ims my life of terror.
No more pain.
No more love.
Just my instinks left.
That quote changed my life.
'For everyday of sorrow,
There is a month of sorrow.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem