Life became a living hell
With dark cloud all around
With raining days and nights
With no sign of light rays
With only light of thunders
It became a torn sheet
Torn by the angry wind
Wind rolled it in dust
Dust made it even worse
Worse then a peaky life
It looks hard to move
Path is filled with red
Crawling also looks tough
Resting is against my spirit
Moving means hugging knifes
Day follows night, some said
Time cuts clouds, some said
Some, hard work will pay
Some, everything is for good
Many, ask help from the god
What should I ask him?
When he knows everything
Why should I ask him?
If he can’t help unasked
If I can’t help myself
I decided my path of life
My only way is to move
With broken smile on face
By lighting smiles on way
Until death smiles my way
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem