Flowing, red water of existence,
Mixed with liquid of emotions.
It's color, pink, your weakness,
Yet satisfaction took over your hands,
And made countless moves.
Human' bandage changing color,
Every day closer to the bone.
Sanctuary of last hope, hospital.
Diagnose?
Lost existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice start, Sora. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.