The winter chills my bones,
to the very depths of me,
I am all out of answers,
plagued by desperation,
I am so lost,
I can not see me,
or my reflection in a mirror,
just a void with out a shell,
no warmth and no fire,
hell is home for me,
wondering for ages,
a soul damned but free,
when will spring ever return,
I often think about sunlight,
in a meadow,
green as green could be,
but the cold wind is my only friend,
until the end of eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem