He is a shadow,
of his former self,
his hearts blood wastes away,
bleeding without injury,
her scars cut him deep
the deep and lasting wound,
left by his
unrequieted love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is so colorful and emotional, and when we are cut by the venom of unrequited love, we should cut back with as much with, if not more than, the asps venom of a woman scorned. Nice poem, I enjoyed every line. Love & hugs, Barbara