I lay awake waiting for a call,
To hear something; anything at all,
The silence is overwelming me,
Feeling weary back to sleep I fall.
I wake up late around six-thirty,
The day is gone I can clearly see,
I cannot go back to my resting,
I find some shade under a large tree,
Cannot stand the feeling of nothing,
I wonder how these birds can still sing,
When this concept of life is a lie,
Knowing that purpose has no meaning,
Wasting away I let out a sigh,
I know that I do not fear to die,
My only fear is not to live,
Only after life can I say bye,
In this world I don't have much to give,
All I need is some initiative,
Or maybe something to give me hope,
All of that seems so derivative,
So as I reach the end of my rope,
I'm finding it very hard to cope,
When in this life I ended up lost,
Seems all is lost so now I must mope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i feel only the word 'sacrificial' from reading this.