I'm sinking;
In a bog lost somewhere in my imagination.
Time stands still,
I see the hummingbirds feed.
I am unable to breathe;
Air becomes concrete around my soul
If death comes, I would embrace her invitation;
as I have never felt so much.
If she knew, only I existed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is depression rearing its ugly head. You really captured the feeling very well in this poem. A lovely piece, penned nicely to hammer home the point. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.