The sun moves slowly with the intent to leave,
Slowly cradeling the mountains, the sun goes where its needed,
Dark crawls upon my Crimson flesh,
yet I feel nothing...
The sun shall return to me,
But I know it will leave as it did before,
Oh, the raptures of yearning,
Dos't encase my soul,
Shadows climb the recesses of this yellow mass,
Pulling there shroud over its beauty,
Turning that magnificent fire,
into the cool opaque surface,
Of an irresdesant moon,
Let us play within this cold fire,
and Grasp everything we deem to be heat.
Your poem is simply beautiful... :) . Dusk is also the best time to steal the neighbor's newspaper...or borrowing it, as I call it...
These lines imply much more than mere darkness and crimson color. I like it............... 'Dark crawls upon my Crimson flesh, yet I feel nothing...' Glorious description of the sun, moon and the nature and yourself. You are good symbolist by using above three, you achieved good symbolism. Your mind is progressing faster than your age. Amazing write............
Gorgeous write. I truly adore the way it implies that you can find warmth and joy even in the darkest of times. The symbolism here is magnificant.
gentle flow..........keep on writing about Nature enveloped with love for love is the greatest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
gentle flow..........keep on writing about Nature enveloped with love for love is the greatest