My soul is a flame
Life's troubles a gust of wind
I flicker with pain, wither down,
But still I am bright.
I fight with the fact
That with each gust of problems
There is enough oxygen
To keep me lit.
My soul is a flame,
But sometimes the trouble is too much,
As is the fact that someday,
That flame will be extinguished by the gust of life's troubles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem