Despair is the door with no handle.
It shuts out hope
and enslaves all within.
No sounds of comfort passing through,
nor warmth of sunlight's
soothing rays.
A cage for sorrow to rattle it's bars,
and silent screams remain unheard.
The only sign the world can see
a handprint on a frosted glass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have captured this emotion in your opening line. Heartfelt words.