He feels overcast,
Always carrying a degree of guilt about himself
Nowadays for him, the seconds feel like minutes,
Minutes like hours,
Hours go by like days
Far from square with life,
He owes great debt that may never be repaid
Wanting life to stick to his ribs,
Yet it turns out that he's powerless about the power,
Unable to truly sift through the numerous impossible doubts that exist within him
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was immediately drawn by the title. Deep and powerful usage of visual KW
Thank You!