In the forgotten house
She wept madly without
Much more than misery
Her tears saluting
The daylight, long past
With the moon she is alone
She does not think
About fighting her depression
She only remembers
The scent of freesia
And all that came with it
A warm embrace, the distant
Reminder of being loved
But too many miles have
Followed her out into this
Wilderness, this prison
Engulfed in her dark sorrow
She does not wish nor pray
For a savoir, it is too late
Only bones remain to save
And tears, always tears
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Grieve and coupled with depression uncontrolled.Freesia got in but is temporary panacea for grief leading to grievances.Sometimes it has no ventilation from the human mind.Time is its best healer.