Flowers will bloom with the coming morn
Thorns will snicker, thorns will scorn
Do not be fooled by what you see
I am no flower, the thorns are me
Like pins and needles in my side
My blood, my pain, they shall collide
I do not see, I do not know
I am nothing, as nothing shows
What is life without this game?
Blame me for my filthy shame
Who am I, yet, what is me
To be a creature who doesn’t see?
Who knows no happiness, only pain?
Whose crystal tears run like rain?
So flowers will bloom with the coming morn
Thorns will snicker, thorns will scorn
Do not be fooled by what you see
I am no flower, the thorns are me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem