Looking for something to move
me, a desire so carnal and vain to
tear the words from my limp
hands. Pounding the walls my
thoughts imprisoned struggling,
beneath my passions surrounded
by shame, I loathe the coming of
day. The light burning, tearing at
my soul only to reveal all was a
dream and nothing more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem