Everything a quiver, gently probing this interior mind with
a quiescent behavior, not failing to show it's face beneath
the covers of sadness.
Lifting edges a little, seeing tears spilling about, soaking
a pillow with this heartbreak of sorrow.
Nothing can console someone in these treacherous depths of
grief, forsaking self, wanting nothing to do with life right
now.
Head hanging beneath a heavy weight, betraying both soul and
heart, taking self into tides, hoping to be drowned beneath
them in the undertow.
Believing that the peace of death and heaven is preferable
to this horrendous life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem