I believed the world was
round,
'Til I fell off the edge of your
soul,
Getting lost not to be found
Like you did not love me so
Not a tear in your eyes,
Watching my life I bleed-
And your soul black as the skies,
As I kneel and plead
My face loses luster,
I cannot be fixed
with a plaster
Was my love, to you a trophy?
Or an ingredient you used in a
ritual
To awaken your dead self?
I look into your eyes with a
brave face,
Holding in my tears, but within,
'Tis these tears I hold in-
That are drowning my soul.
© November 5,2011
Like it a great poem, a good write. May i invite you to read my poem called, The living and the dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
amashiwi aya shalikishe yawamisha. Ndenwina mufilamba njikatilila mukati.