Elderly wounds have yet to fade,
Fore pain still lingers to this day.
Every since you said good bye,
This shallow grave in which I lie,
Un-hollowed earth I'm buried in,
After your heart I could not win.
My Hell-bound soul can not be blessed,
As self-fed blade enters my chest.
The blood I hardly remember;
The pain though is so familiar.
I think of you, am brought to dread.
I can't get you out of my head.
I wish that you would leave my thoughts
Before my saddened soul is brought
To leaving this world for my Hell.
On these thoughts I should not dwell,
But I can't stand to look at you.
I'm afraid that's the last I'll do.
You're the last one I will see,
Before I will cease to be.
As the pendulum in me stops,
The knife draws in, no more sad thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem