The moments come,
The moments go,
Yet I remain the same...
Stagnant, stale, and suffering,
Blinded by the shame...
Weighed down in a heartbeat,
Fluttering in vain,
The nauseous hand that beats the brow...
The fist that beats the brain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We all desire progress and lament when it escapes us!