I sit in the old stone church
trying to concentrate my mind
light shines through the stained glass windows
casting weird shadows on the floor
My tired eyes fill with tears
as I stand up and look around
my whole body trembles
with angry sadness and memory
Why are we cursed to die
why do people suffer so much
I sink to my knees by the altar
begging for answers from the statues above
they only look on with contempt
and refuse to even respond to my cries
The walls contain my screams
from the people outside
the stones themselves stay silent
they've heard it all before
I fall onto my face
my voice slowly dying away
tears flow down my cheeks
flowing small rivers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad piece, touching and well penned.