All pits of life have gone by.
Your soul is the only thing that
will not die.
Beneath ground are these black caves
filled with grief.
Dampness robs you of happiness so brief.
All the walls are cold and rough.
Soon, you feel a strong handcuff.
This is your loneliness held inside.
At your grave friends will stand aside.
Your dreams are eaten away as you
become an ugly clump of clay.
Crawl toward sanity before it devastates.
In the distance you see those gates.
Rush to find your way back.
Don't get caught in the deep dark crack.
Some come back for their pits are few.
This I'm afraid is your life's tattoo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem