Cold is the soul ov a man...
Even colder is the soul ov his spous...
Do we deseverve what we are given,
Or do we leach do to our nature?
I wish I had an answer,
Or better yet a clue on how to ask the question...
If this is all we are ment to be...
Then I don't wanna live...
Spuing vomite...
Vains pulsate...
Thoughts fade...
And yet...
There is a sense ov liberation...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem