The victims’ shadows steal the wall
and project our incoming death.
The clock takes away our lifelines
and constricts us in its shackles.
Darkness besieges the harbor
and beclouds our escape route.
Our forbearance is our curse
that locks us in its internment.
The organ is our harbinger
that withholds future realism.
It’s our unspoken cry for help
in a World of Uncertainty!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem