Life is sold, and love is bought
I am the blame
And I weep into my constant thought
Of that, that has no name.
What was of me has left and gone
I am the pain
What point, I ask, of even being born
No choice, you say, again.
I feel no warmth in tired sleeps
I am the blame
Souls tossed onto countless heaps
All at peace, all the same.
And where are you in all of this
I am the blame, I am still here
Long from touch and smile and kiss
Our lives enraged in fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem