You don't believe in me,
though you have recieved my plea
As long as I stay on the ground and don't make a sound,
you will prey to God that I am never found
You leave me be and let me bleed,
in hope that you'll never need me
These metal chains cause pain for me,
but as they cut off blood in my veins, it's your gain
There is no sunrise in the land of lonley cries,
and hard abusive rain is all that falls from the skies
As the treatment grows old the ground grows cold,
and all my pride has been sold
While my bruises tell a story,
the nuse shows me your glory
Now my only chance for a glance of my missing path,
is to wait for the ending, my death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem