An empty canvas,
waiting for the painter to put colour on it.
Muted agony,
waiting for words to fill the void.
A soulless flesh,
cursing the bane of its own existence.
Yet, a hopeful heart,
looking beyond all the hopelessness.
Anticipating,
the light in the darkness.
The human spirit lives on,
prevails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem