Once it was a shell,
Holding us fierce,
With smoothing words,
Juicy with rhymes.
In my ignorance,
I smiled,
At every passing letter,
and beautiful colour.
When light went,
I stayed with dream,
Glittering illusions,
Of my imagination.
Did the words fly?
Or do my hearing now suffer,
Where lies those times,
And colours I saw?
Did the words fly?
While I sang,
Waiting for the sands,
The sands of time.
Did the word's fly?
Or change with time?
Letters changing to memories,
Dead and gone!
Did the words fly?
Or did the blade move,
Taking with it,
All the words left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem