like the steady beat of a drum,
as you glare into the eyes of beauty,
feelings bottled up inside,
tearing at your soul,
as you slowly start to bleed,
and with the slightest hope in hell,
we just might make it to the end,
the end of this hell's highway,
to confront the devil,
to face your fears,
locked in an endless battle with your soul,
until you can't bear the pain any longer,
and shout it out loud,
as your heart escapes from its isolated prison.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.