Dreams smeared on a barren landscape
swirling in a mist of pain,
grief comes like a summer storm
no relief comes with the rain.
Visions of your face are taunting,
memories of your touch are haunting,
what once was the greatest love
lies deadened as a wingless dove.
Passion melted into danger,
molten fury fuelled our fire,
slowly you became a stranger,
all ended when I called you a liar.
Anguish, hurt, bitterness and hate.
A weekly cycle doomed to fail.
Foreseeing a future so bland and pale.
loving you throughout, now too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liked it a lot gave 10 Interesting read thanks Chris