Constant Crucifixion,
So self-loathing,
I destroy myself, so imperfect & ungodly.
Unsuccessful in Life...
I want to cover myself with earth.
& a cold stone for my pillow.
I want the hands of death to
snap the chord of life...
Death won't seem to cut
my wretched existence
short.
I torture myself
for every failure.
My Failures Haunt me,
and Gnaw at my soul
Forever...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem