Too many words have been said.
Too many thoughts inside of my head.
Life is gone, and so am I.
Hope is gone, they don’t know why.
Blood and hurt are all that flow.
While what’s left is pure as snow.
Pain is not unwanted.
It’s that only thing that lets me know I’m alive.
Pain is still undaunted.
It’s the only thing. The only thing. The only thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
''blood and hurt are all that flow'' great lines and overall a great piece... the flow was really good.