No reflection cast within their backward gleam,
There is no looking past to beyond the stressing seam.
All is thrown to outer edge,
as distilled souls now meekly pledge.
A sullen forfeit too inept to try,
within their souls that just can't cry.
I've come to down and out I go,
from this place though you won't know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem