Obsessed with the living, the dying, the dead
For that will soon be, my future state
What should I do, now that I’m alive?
What should I do in the remaining of life?
For soon I’ll be gone
And many will mourn
For the man they call husband and son
And I’ll regret what I’ve not done
When I die, will I survive?
The harsh reality
Of death in life
Or just drown in the sea
Of fire
Then I will think
Why I haven’t done more even when life’s at the brink
I’ve let myself fall
Without hesitation
Without mush frustration
I departed from here
In this global sphere
And then I’m awake
Just before dawns break
Realizing a dream
Just so it seemed
Dreams are not reality
They are just a fantasy
They prove nothing
No power
No glory
Sometimes we wake up
Scared with this fear
Lie in the bathtub
Streaming with tears
Afraid of the next time
We see ourselves trapped
A realm of different rhyme
With my existence scrapped
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem