The steps I take are heavy.
I'm walking barefoot, but my feet are made of bricks.
Very ponderous.
These walls are just a boundary.
A maze with no cessation, no expiration.
My sky doesn't reach out like others.
Theres limits to my madness.
There is an utter amount of freshair,
But I still can't breath.
But my Soul is my escape, fighting to save me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem