Sprouting indignation, growing silently inside -
unafraid of tempests in life.
Strolling over mountainous ocean waves of remorse,
falling upon them and being tossed and turned
forevermore.
Grief turned aside, basking in it's sorrow,
unrelentingly persistent, wanting to be heard.
Flowers blooming constantly around a grave, never
quite reaching their destination at the head of
the tomb.
Everlastingly deep, quiet, alone, grief remains
heavy until it is finally shared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem