I am the lonely tree at the top of the mountain.
...standing all by itself.
It's leaves falling down, onto the trees below.
They are tears crying out in shame.
Noone will come near it, it has no friends.
They hate it, they dispise it.
But they never get to see the true meaning inside.
It screams out in agony.
You don't know the horrible story of my life.
I'm not really alive, in death my time will arrive.
Beaten and Broken down.
Memories tormenting me.
The hurt they've done to me.
The branches breaking off,
are all the people who have betrayed me.
The hateful spirits put me out of my misery,
Burning up my soul of sorrow.
I am the lonely tree at the top of the mountain.
Standing all by myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like it, but there is a slight concept difference, first, third, then first person again... Should try and keep it uniform, good write anyhow...