A tear fell from his eye
And landed in a well -
The sky brightened
But his soul was in a cell.
He had created his own prison
To continue living
Instead of setting his soul free,
Letting his soul fly...
The price of life
Was the death of the soul
And he wandered alone,
Passing the buck
Hiding in fear
Of the inevitable black
Sheer terror of mortality.
But in the end
He will go to the centre
And the pains will dissolve
Souls are saved
By one another,
By necessity,
In the City
At The End.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem