The guilt has surfaced
in a daylight of hypocrisy
each time, each encounter
always a dejavu
I am losing battles
to the same enemy
on the same ground
Told myself,
to fight with all capabilities
no matter how irresistible
the temptation and desire
to drift in ecstasy
of the touch and kisses
in the prison of self destruction
This is a battle, I hardly win
because the enemy travel in the wind
each battle of hardship
in the land full of losers
enjoying pleasantness
of their lost
to cigarettes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
glad to go through such inspiring piece/