The severe strike of his bleeding hand, A sea of scarlet like in no man’s land, Nobody knows, nobody cares, Why is life always this unfair?
Persistent pound of frustration and rage, My life a neglected, vacant page, No one to read these worthless words, The past has no possible cure.
Future written by a mad man’s beating, My thoughts, my feelings twisted, happiness fleeting, A fleeting memory that fades away, Abandoning me to face another day.
Determined droplets hammer the weary window, rain, rain, rain, A storm of sorrow, suffering, pain, pain, pain, Rejected, dejected, nowhere to run, Why would he beat his only son?
And I just can’t deal with it anymore, Can’t find a way out from it all, Should I give up, give in, escape his sin? Take my life into my own hands, Be like everyone else in no man’s land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dim yet extremely poe like. Keep up the good work. You will be fine. I can relate to these words of hollowness and loneliness. this is a beautiful piece. -god bless-daniel