When the coat of anger surrounds a mind, lifeblood is
squeezed indefinitely from it.
There are no hopes or dreams, only desires to get rid
of it, put it away somewhere for the rest of eternity.
Wasting a mind, creating a cavity of deep despair, a
circular cycle continues day and night, on a lone
unwanted mission.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem