death, keeper of secrets
come to me, entreat me
swirl hues to intoxicate senses
court with your finery
draw me into your furtive folds
cradle me in your arms
brushing my lips with wonder
coming to rest on my heart.
lead me to you
so I may glean the mystery
of living before my hour is upon me...
(for J.S. yes, it's still morbid no matter what you say)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that was nice! a good way to say it