These eyes are heavy and weary for staring through
The mirror of hopes and future
They are tired of looking everywhere
For treasures hidden in the space of imagination
These eyes of mine have seen enough felony
To believe in the worlds empty promises
These eyes of mine that were once glasses
That could be used to see the endless
Possibilities have become nothing but a means
Through which pain can be transmitted to my soul
These eyes have lost taste of color
Not even myriad rainbows can flash interest
These eyes that once loved pretty things
Plunged into a state of gloominess
What has happened to our dying morals?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem