Cold and lonely as a stone on a hillside
Lost in the bustle of modern day life
Constantly fighting from outside and inside
Parrying blows from the stress and the strife
They sufficate life, as they tighten about you
Dragging you down in the bottomless mire
Clouding your judgement, to block out the view
Its aim to consume you in pitiless fire
This is a hell, but not of Gods making
Brought down upon us by emotional needs
Dogging our footsteps, from the moment of waking
To stifle us all if we don't pay them heed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem