Faith, entering this blind journey again, walking alone in the dark, its uncertainty to gain chill, hurting to an ordeal laid fears, giving thoughts to hit my brain, it's to stain pits.
My home set this desire on foot to walk by tips, pace wild woods, not even a flashlight took sips in rips, placing dips of not just it in these trees but with leaves.
A dope to drop, seeing a slope, down it is slowly bent safely, sightless, a root rope not to trip, eyes locked low, stretching, leaning afraid I will not slip: I cope this hill.
Nightmare, not having any vision, is a chosen thrill in a pit, an assumption of this quiet, a silence, a hush, reach out this limb, a bush to crush, grabbing quickly it flush, fear dark trees.
I zoned by an ear tilt, lean to hear any harm outward, paused for any noise to fear, bangs it is a threat alert of its nearest, sighted shadows I'll let out tear expectation.
My chest lacks air, both eyes are too dim, makes in shell rapid breaths it is pressures, fall in a hell site, herein it is in a trap to tell live fright hope just vacant.
A beast out of nowhere, the action of a cop, confronted, peers eyes a mop to stop a fast jump, attacked this angry bear surging, and hit this to hop striking for me.
Wolf sounds out its howl, and lone eye an owl blinks, growl in the bush sightless sits threats nearby, rush me swiftly there's a ghost to prowl BOO at my zoom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem