I will admit He's a bright planet in the the dark morning sky of my existence.
Somehow seeing him (even with his carried flaws,) buoys me with hope.
(Zack, too) although he's more like a faraway star, Brilliant, but cold in his distance; beautiful in his perfection, but likely to burn to brightly, snuff himself out. (I wonder where he came from, what random joining of energies created such complexity.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem