Look..
Inside my pupils, , see a hole
A stab from the spade
, A dug up soul.
I dint want to use up all the flame,
I was only playing the dark sides game,
I dint prophesied such a stain.
Now I must fight, to recreate his name.
-The last flame flickers in its pit.
The only chance,
It can’t go out,
I need to live,
I can’t run to fast for I might slip.
But yet I must climb fast and high.
And Risk, , taking the candle out in the wind.
To be,
To feel,
To win back me.
(Only the g-d could give me back myself.)
Chance…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Intriguing, but to me just a little incomprehensible, poem, it had me pondering for quite a while.