The flowers I smell, absolutely alluring,
These flowers I breath in,
fabulous red and oceanic blue.
Vividly purple, and outrageously yellow.
I breath in through my nose, enjoying the view.
An absolute perfect sight.
Uplifts my emotion, almost if by design.
This view, these flowers, this is my life! ! !
I exclaimed.
The day grows old.
The flowers begin to wither.
And the view begins to fade as night envelops.
The day has come to an end, and I find myself stranded.
Lost in the illusion, I realize the smell of this burnt out candle.
The wick, so small and tired, it burns no more.
I look back at the unread emails, the unfinished work.
I sit and miss when this candle could take me elsewhere.
For I knew of it's lies, it's deceit.
But when looking back at the world, it's obvious.
I need a new candle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem