How much does it hurt,
you don't even feel,
The ground beneath your feet,
At that moment,
you see the ugly face of evil,
laughing at you,
But you're a victim,
you can't do anything,
and you know it.
If you survived somehow,
well, not less than a miracle,
you choose to live:
So you seal the wound,
lock it in a compartment,
and melt the key,
Then it becomes a secret,
between you and God,
Forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful imaginary and imagery. Beautifully crafted. Nice work. Thanks.