he was cast upon death's threshhold once
then haply called away.
not comprehending why the gods
intended him to stay.
when forfeit of tomorrows seemed
a meager price to pay
for wasting the advantage of his youth.
he was lost within a circumstance
he couldn't quite control.
angry at the world, a blatant stranger
to his soul.
inside he hides a torment he hopes
no one will console;
a guilt he has decided not to soothe.
he was waiting for deliverance
suspended by a thread,
the teasing sword of damocles
delayed above his head.
his only proof that he's alive
is that he isn't dead.
tho he knows the facts dont quite reveal the truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem