A bright star shines above
like a heart's burning love.
In time, its flame will eventually die,
leaving darkness to fill that part of the sky.
And though life seems mirrored the same way,
I will hold a torch come the day.
For without that shining beam to guide my path
there would be nothing left except inky dark.
So unless there's love to make life spin on its head,
like the star, my body would turn cold and lie forever dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem