Quietly creeping, I stole away,
Into the darkness of my heart.
I took but a book, blank as my face,
And pen to write my thoughts.
Two days I sat with not a sound,
No murmurs from beasts hid nearby,
Though many times, It seemed to be
I saw the eyes of those I sought.
Forgetting goals, I waited long,
Humming ancient tunes so bold,
Awaiting epiphany and light,
To come in all this time I bought.
For some great time, I felt so weak,
Lacking in that wondrous field,
Wishing to leave this desolate place,
Though I wasn’t sure I ought.
Finally I found my way,
Enlightened by my misery,
Delving deep into the mists,
From which my heart was wrought.
I crept away, back to the light,
Once my task was all but done,
Relief washed over chilling soul,
As happiness was caught.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem