Hard... to... fathom at times
how lonely we've become.
Trapped within this frame of mind
that seems to linger on.
We toil and writhe on the melting asphalt
(cracked and seething with no end in sight)
yet salvation is within our grasp.
I'm not talking about some god or angel waiting to swoop down;
just a chance to lift the veil
so we can see our self-imposed exile
from humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem