In this muted corner of my heart
Fear tells me, good times shall soon depart;
will your 'deep caring' pull me back in
Before i turn to pieces again?
Is 'HOPING' just an antiquated foolish term,
To mock a heart that is muddled vainly in Squirm?
Or has reason ever breathe life to HOPE at all,
as it did to waves in their constant rise and fall?
Oh, but silence keeps your lips ensnared
leaving this heart utterly derailed
Now I am in this catacombs of time
Where I'm no less than an oldfangled mime
I do wish you'll say it so
'you've a reason not to go'
Or maybe it is just 'coz'
I'm a leaf this fall...that's due.
Often you say to me 'I can not read your mind.',
But can i not in your thoughts be confined,
And be stolen away from time's lonesome design,
or could it be, that to me your heart is not assigned?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem