Nihilistic eyes show no surprise
They only tell that they despise
Until the Nature to reprise
The void of their very own demise.
I hope we get the new reprise,
This Life returns what slowly dies
She also hates our hopeless cries
Before our very own demise.
When death-bed comes I'll need no guides,
But I would like to have that strife
With the reflexion in your eyes,
I'll be reflecting till demise.
(I'll be reflected till demise)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem