Rolling in with an intensified form
All life is lost in this crowd I'm alone
I've lost it all, yet I'm content
In some form of passing the torch of lament
Somewhere in between Dublin and County Clare
I've found my self secure casual wear
It's been quite some time now, since the last five
The ones all around me are dead, and I'm alive
With no stimuli to bring this strife to a close
I damaged it good to settle my woes
To rise above the afflicting clouds
I came to my senses and rejoined the crowds
So it stopped rolling in in any way, shape, or form
My life has been found, on the clouds not alone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem