Something dark and empty, smiles above a fire,
A life of blossomed petals dies within the liar,
To test a firm foundation; to flourish or to wilt,
These tiny vines of colour, towards the fire tilt.
Life slowly passes through onto the other side,
As memories of sadness from their faces hide,
Reminded every second, of the pain the try to mask,
As one who gave the offering, in their glory bask.
So offer me no guilt, and offer me not death,
As the tiny leaves of beauty, breathe their final breath,
And as they leave us nothing but a brown and twisted stem,
Know you’re not forgiven as I will only mourn for them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem