I see a blade upon the floor,
I pick it up to use some more.
This blood stained blade is mine again,
It's simply now just a question of when.
I go and find my own little place,
my heart jumps and picks up pace.
The first cut seams to get worse,
the price I pay to shed my curse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem