O’ compassion, return thee into my embrace
This heart has suffered on the heavy hour
Emptied of empathy, stolen in thy departing grace
How long can broken men live, whilst emotions hold no power,
In thy absence this land grows barren and cold
I beg of thee, bring back the wind, return the rain
Let thy fires once more burn uncontrolled
I long for the joy, I lust for pain
Yet thou art but a memory, a mere apparition
In minds eye thou art a shadow, quickly faded
Non is the now, without the rendition
And not is the future, within the blockaded,
Let it be then that what is lived is mere existence,
Lived without the hearts assistance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem