Amid darkness, I ponder
Over all the mental squander.
Of trivial things, a many
Nothing worth a penny.
Time comes and goes
Without healing woes.
With too proud a mind
Becomes difficult to unwind.
Loneliness, a best friend
Reminds of wounds to mend
And reveals the cure
It was I who set the lure.
A trap made by self
Don't need a cry for help.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome! In a dark kind of way, which I like. Keep at it. Maybe divide it into three or four sections.