This broken heart, torn into pieces years ago, never been
mended, living in dungeons of past abuse, no way out of it's
pits of hell.
Seldom finding anything to hope or trust in, having been
stolen from depths of this poetical being, shards of yester-
day continually cutting this heart and soul into ribbons.
Tattered by abuse and neglect that has filled it all these
years, spent between pages of loneliness and abandonment,
leaving their scars behind.
Wounds that never healed, quietly sitting in a blackened
background filled with an emptiness that's never filled
with love, caring or compassion, withering away, all alone
in a sunless atmosphere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem