Tis a malady most dire,
That strikes with no respite,
An insidious affliction,
That quells with darkest blight.
The pestilence of the psyche,
That humans can't outrun,
Its insidiousness most ancient,
Its damage hard to undo.
It's the bane of our existence,
That can't be seen or touched,
But its torment is relentless,
And its effects are far too much.
It's a chaos of the heart and mind,
That leads to great despair,
For all its victims, of all time,
It's the hardest cross to bear.
But though this malady be strong,
And darkness reigns supreme,
We mustn't forget that hope is long,
And love is the brightest beam.
For in the midst of this great strife,
We find the strength to fight,
To live our lives with joy and life,
And overcome the blight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem