Quiet remorse tabulating in my mind, setting joy aside,
moments at a time.
Lifting eyes towards heaven, wanting to lift spirits,
but nothing comes of it, as duskily, I sit and repudiate
days of unheard livelihood.
Testing boundless chasms, frequenting canyons of my own
making, hoping against all hope to become what in the
end I must.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem