This will be the end of my very beginning,
Like a motion that never passed,
Not even time to close my eyes, as neither that dream, will ever last,
I now only exist, not live, through my silence of beats,
And I may move on, as best one does with an involuntary stillness of feet,
I have casted aside hope, and left enough room for sorrow,
For I would wish not for my enemy, nor I, to hold on to this tomorrow,
When to love is not enough, and being a friend gives false calm,
Grey are the colour of my tears, while you’re so neatly tucked in his arms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem