Trivial thoughts,
sinful dreams,
triggering a heartache overload.
Hanging on to life
eversince
my soul has been sold.
Fleeing from
the sight of
a dying man's face,
Avoiding the eyes
of the peasants
for the rest of my days.
Walking alone in the dark,
unfrightened.
Losing my greatest joy,
in a second.
Connecting to a past,
precious secret untold,
with my thoughts and dreams
giving me a heartache overload.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem