An empty canvas, 
waiting for the painter to put colour on it.
Muted agony, 
waiting for words to fill the void.
A soulless flesh, 
cursing the bane of its own existence.
Yet, a hopeful heart, 
looking beyond all the hopelessness.
Anticipating, 
the light in the darkness.
The human spirit lives on, 
prevails.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem