No title

[IT] Fuori vento.

Dentro vento.

Rimango sotto le coperte sperando che mi facciano da scudo.

Rimango nel buio sperando di avere dei nemici da cui nascondermi.

Non serve in realtà.

La somma è il nulla.

La mia nave è ferma in un braccio di mare morto.

E neanche un nemico fidato. [EN] Wind outside. Wind inside. I stay under blankets hoping they'll shield me. I stay in the darkness hoping that I've enemies to hide from. Is no use, really. The sum is nothing. My ship is caught in dead waters. And no trustworthy enemy on the horizon.

Reviews

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This is an interesting piece of writing, Cruth.
It seems to me like the voice within this poem is having an existential crisis of some sort.
They are stuck in a rut, with no one to trust, no enemies to fear.

Welcome to writerscafe, Cruth. Feel free to read some of my work, anytime.