I was supposed to be dead,
But take a look at my vein,
There’s still blood, and it’s red,
You tried to empty me: in vain
I was supposed to be dead,
Lying forever on the floor,
But there are still thoughts in my head,
There’s still life in my core.
I was supposed to be dead,
But there’s still beating in my heart,
Even without love, without bread,
Even without you and that’s the hardest part.
I was supposed to be dead,
But I’m still breathing,
I remember the fights that I’ve led,
Here I go, on my feet, I’m standing.
I was supposed to be dead,
Crawling, defeated by the pain,
But how did I LIVE instead?
This riddle is driving you insane.
You thought I’d surrender
And send you a white dove,
But I became a commander
And gave up your love!
Between me and death
There’s an eternal match,
Coz hell, me and death
We can never match!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem