It begins with the emotions bleeding through the pages.
Chapters forever rambling through the misery like a never-ending story.
One day, the paragraphs that contain the pain will end. One day.
Each sentence carefully crafted to describe the depth of the agony.
Every period, every comma, every question. Nothing is perfect.
If only the author could understand why this story must be written.
Chasing the end of the book like chasing dreams of being happy.
There seems to be no finish, only another page. More bleeding.
It seems for that for now there's only one book in the series.
But what if another story must be told?
For now, we wait until the story ends. Happy ending desired.
Until that day the ink must dry. But alas, the bleeding continues.
Pages soaked with emotions. Forever telling a story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Andrew Ogdee. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.