My heart is an empty wasteland
A bleak desert is my soul
But I can blame no other
For how my dice was rolled
For I rolled these dice myself
Even knowing I would lose
Each dice face a cutting glimpse
Of someone I would use
This cancers black inside me
There's no time left to heal
All inside is numbness
No joy or love to feel
There is no course of action
Left for me to take
So I write these thoughts and wailings
For meloncholys sake
My heart is an empty wasteland
A desert is my soul
But I can blame no other
For how my dice was rolled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem