Like a corpse,
Sometimes when that distant
Image of happiness,
Somewhere buried deep down,
Beneath the layers
Of that troubled mind, rises
To the surface, for you to find.
Suddenly over the sleeplessness,
Of the dead night, you realize;
It was this delight that
Kept you going, over and over
When the music of silence filled you,
And yanked you towards
An inch closer, to the thought,
That you could have ended it all,
If you would have just at all,
Tightened that sadness around you,
To give it a closure
Once and for all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem