With a breathe of heavy sigh
ticking of the clocks resound
choking with every affection
of falsity and raging pretense.
Seeking what should be found
through worlds of lost
is a journey with contempt
an end to wherever is left.
The rub of this warmth
sends shivers across
to spaces thought untouched
forever imprinted they are.
Surrender to hopeless case
a face lost with no name
faith beyond stake of life
let me die in this second thought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem