Life and death will be what they will be;
there is no card to leave the jail for free.
And in the end we rant and rail and pray,
but fail to steal another single day.
The bar always announces closing time;
why can't the gods reveal their paradigm.
Life is filled with joy and pain and doubt,
too hard for anyone to figure out.
I wish I had a clue to be my guide,
a beacon from a sacred mountainside.
But here I wait; one day becomes the next,
confused, abused, and totally perplexed.
Someone once said to play it from the heart,
the deck is stacked and that's the hardest part.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A philosophy of life and its ups and downs nicely inlaid in this beautiful poem. Thanks.