She doesn't complain, she never does.
She just marvels at the timing
of this merciless misfortune.
Just when she raises a battle
whether to follow stars or the moon,
she gets drawn into this black hole.
May be these sickness, stains and strains
pills, pricks and pains are rightly timed
to make her forget the stubborn scar
to shake her off the drawn-out coma
into the consciousness, to see
how her faithful body fought occultly
to keep her breathing while her soul
wandered ignoring it's pure love busy
fighting for the fake one.
May be it was necessary
to numb all her confusions
to unite her body and the soul
to dream none, aim nothing
to love none, hate nothing
to seek none, fear nothing
Just be, breathe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What is the story behind this poem? I would like to know.