What in the world
have you done
to my aching heart,
pulsating it with livid fear
that Time will not set it free?
I cannot hold on any longer
to make-believe that the pain
will dissipate when my eyes are closed;
my endurance is slipping away
just like all the dreams
I have lost in the mid-stream of life;
pain has harnessed itself
in the core of my brain
and I can feel it torching its way
in the crevices of my mind;
and now you’ve come
hosting my heart with comfort,
your arms are harnessed
with bunches of roses
to fragrance my soul
and wipe my tears
with colorful petals;
and hope dances
in the palm of your hands
to placate my mind once again,
and egg me to move one step forward
to go where I have never gone before,
because Time is not ready
to set me free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem