Blowing wind raked itself through my body, tearing apart
insides, scattering little bits of truth and knowledge,
causing them to rearrange themselves into a bedlam of
confusion.
Tauntingly pulling apart every emotion - every feeling -
once stacked inside many steel-lined boxes, now before
me, crying softly at something they know nothing about,
tormenting without regard to any feelings.
Being reminded of the callousness life naturally brings
about in every aspect, loneliness finds it's seat and place
within a being.
Not looking for a way to escape, knowing it cannot happen,
allowing sorrow to walk on in.
Placing before the altar, suffering spent in being, life
goes on searching for it's meaning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem