The deafening silence
of not hearing her voice
Is like an open grave
on a breezeless day,
eerie and haunting.
All these loveless seasons
have left me empty
And in a hostile and desperate mood.
One could slit his own throat
beneath a streetlight
in order to feel
a new and different pain.
1: 02AM 3-25-2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem