The sky is burning!
Fog or flames?
Why is the horizon blushed
With hues of fire and fear?
Like a painted canvas
Of an artist who bears a grudge against the blaze
To the east, the promise of light
But the angel in the distance,
That I can see most nights,
Is gone.
Flown?
For fear of flame.
I stand at my window
In my gown of white
A ghost of light
Stare at the night
My hands, with nails like claws,
Tremble at the sight
Gaze in fright
Over there, look
The sky is still blue behind the fire
Deep, magnificent blue
A mirror that reflects the ocean
The blazing blanket begins to beckon
Creep over the sky
Tendrils of smoke
Poisonous, like hellebore
A kiss of nightshade
I fall back
I fall back...
I fall...
I...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem