It's always there,
never sure where it came from,
pushing, pulling, guiding.
Never seen it born,
but loved it, nurtured it, watched it grow,
now it's strong, powerful, looking into my eyes.
Open my mouth,
but don't understand what's coming out,
that's not what I wanted to say.
Too guarded, too scared
Make it stop! I'm not listening any more,
or so I tell myself.
The brief calm before the storm,
sigh of releif, I've got it beat.
I'm free and clearheaded and just starting to relax.
As I dig its grave, it laughs
so dark and evil,
feel it coming, can't make it stop.
What will it take,
I'm weak, can't fight it again,
it knows me, knows me all too well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very powerful poem, nicely done!