I may definitely collapse
There are many lapses
I shall never regain
Always losses and no gain
Time is sticking away
It is blocking my way
No one may notice my sickness
They won’t love it to witness
I am unable to breath
The is approach of death
My wings stay crippled
I wish not to appeal
I am unable to sing
There are many strings
At last time what does it bring?
Only autumn and not the spring
I lie completely on the floor
The windows are open along with the door
I am afforded an easy way at least
I wait for the message from the priest
All sources are dried
I don’t want to be cried
I have never lied
But all hopes are bellied
The thought itself is sickening
It crates panic and threatening
I shall be lost for ever when cremated
Body may rot in land when consummated
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem