La lumière au bout du tunnel a dusparu,
et je ne vous plus d'où je viens.
Je m'aventure encore plus loin dans les griffes de l'inconnu,
J'aurais peur si je n'étais pas si engourdi.
J'entends les chants et les cris de ceux qui se sont perdus avant moi,
Je les entends de plus en plus clairment au fur et à mesure que j'avance.
La lassitude qui tire mon esprit est devenue trop forte,
mais je continue à marcher.
Finalement, j'arrive à deux portes,
dont la signification est clair.
Celle de gauche promet la réponse,
celle de droite promet la réconfort.
Mais le plus étrange n'est pas la facon dont les portes sont arrivées là,
C'est que je ne me souvenais plus de la question
TRANSLATION:
The light at the end of the tunnel has gone,
and I no longer know where I came from.
I venture further into the clutches of the unknown,
I'd be scared if I wasn't so numb.
I hear the songs and cries of those lost before me,
I hear them clearer and alearer as I go on.
The weariness pulling at my spirit has become too strong,
but I continue walking.
Finally I come to two doors,
whose meaning is clear.
The one on the left promises the answer,
and the one on the right promises the comfort in it.
But the strangest thing wasn't how the doors got there,
It was that I could no longer remember the question.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Dead Girl
PoetryAs of January 15th, this poetry collection is complete! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't please don't come for me. The diary and inner thoughts of a (pretty much) dead girl, except in the form of sonnets and poetry! How fun is that! It's fun...
