Darkness may take your breath,
and hatred stand you still,
but death is not complete,
until you lose your will.
On the edge of death you stand,
a moment and breath away,
and still you fight your war,
to live yet another day.
On the edge of suicide
a pact you break or keep.
Twisted darkness will land in your hands
judgement of who it is shall weep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem