Disillusionment,
It doesn't come until you can face yourself,
And they say bliss is ignorance,
And they're right because true hell is knowing your own flaws,
And you do that by facing yourself in your mind's halls.
And maybe you hate it,
Maybe you can't stand the way you are,
But you know it's right because now you can't go too far,
And it's a weird struggle,
You versus the world,
Because selflessness is a true misery,
Keeping your mouth controlled and saying nice words.
Isn't a bad man turned great,
Better than a good man without change?
And it's strange,
That pain makes you great,
But what is a man handed everything?
Real strength comes from having none.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem