They start to hang, they start to cry.
The dark, too longing, in their mind.
The cuts too deep, the prayer too loud.
The devil comes, late at night.
Hears the whispers, sees the dark, sees the blood that runs too far.
The echo of a silent cry,
A need for comfort, no reply.
The water falls, filled with pain.
The past echoes by name.
Laughter around, but they can't connect,
A storm within, who shows their past.
Traumas that echo, too heavy to bear,
Overwhelming their mind, leaving them bare.
They walk through crowds, they feel unseen.
The heads are high, with a smile.
The smile of a silent cry.
And though they're loved, they still can't see,
The way to heal, the way to be free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem