The last sip of sour blood
Might be the sweetest stung
Reality struck
Heart was persecuted
Taste the paradox
End of smile
Might be a thread of wisdom
To the man
To the kind
But bluntness is too grasping
Admit nothing except pain
Lesson is not here
Sadness is too close
Without faith
Emptiness prevails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem