Sometimes I think the night will never end,
That my vague memories of light are only a dream,
That the senses I'd thought to be numbed by cold were never real.
That I myself was never real.
But eventually the sun always rises,
Casting light and warmth upon the world.
And for a fleeting moment I think I'm saved
As a beautiful red-orange hue climbs through the sky.
But a moment later, the light is blinding.
I shut my eyes, but the brightness is piercing.
And as the numbness recedes, it is replaced only by pain.
And I realize the day carries an agony all its own.
And sometimes I think the day will never end,
That I would give anything to be numb again,
That I don't want to feel,
That I don't want to be real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem