This warmth only brings me cold,
All the lights have me in the shadow.
I listen to all the wisdom I’m being told,
But instead, your beauty I’d rather follow.
Time is slow, dripping in this rusty tap,
The sun dimmed, it now shows no fury.
Butterfly wings you innocently flap,
I’m on a collision course-this chaos theory.
This treacherous path, I have chosen,
I am the alchemist whose made this poison.
You get on oblivious with Life’s game,
While I die trying to do the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem