at your feet grow sands
unsatisfied with life
no longer angry at
the darkness of my soul
as you long to see me
filter words of the past
as we look to see
and listen to hear
not easily we made
ways to comprehend
the sea in its flow
whereon silent convitions
like silver suns show
again that love can bend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice additions. I thought 7 was the end but then I noticed 8 & 9 and they were both fantastic.