When we are locked up in dungeons,
We have plenty of time to think,
To think about why we are here and how to get out.
We are sometimes lost in our thoughts, drifting off to a place
So familiar, where we see all those, who we laughed along with,
Who we fought with, who we shared the most beautiful moments with...
But the pain of the chains around your wrists take us back to reality,
And in us grows a feeling of longing,
A longing for those who are outside of this dungeon.
This feeling turns to hope, and everyday a speck of light,
From the walls of this damned place, starts to grow
Bigger and brighter, until it burns a hole which allows us to see
What's behind the wall...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem