We are formed in the darkness,
Paving our ways through a medium natural,
And bathing in the brightness,
The empty slate forms memories indelible and forgettable.
Since then, agony and happiness act as coin with two sides,
On one hand so tired we are, full of life on the other,
Life's river makes us move to several directions guides,
An endless race with end and no end all together.
Eternal rest is what we deserve in the grave so dark,
They will know if we are oblivious or have left any mark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem