wasted
like paper wasted for the cells to whiten
sprinkling the soul onto the wall
permanently graphed tainted blood
to the point when sound does not wake up
does not want to wake up
does not want to wake up and give
a soothing sound of midnight
but merely sleeps deep 'neath the beat
slapping all faces of exhaustion
too tired too frail too hard to even speak
it keeps the caves of the mouth safely closed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now here you are, nicer and stronger with a beautiful voice and melodious sound all night and day. Powerful poem. Thoughtful context. Beautiful content. Wonderful intent.