Twisted leaf falling
disintegrated faith,
in the echoes calling
stars fading in your wake.
Songs of pleasure ringing
sounding in heathen ears,
in my decadence
I am fearing;
nothing will remain.
And I am twisted
clutching at the wind,
a reverent lullaby catches,
only to let me break.
Careless little fingers
crush my fragile spine
holding me together,
to whisper at me coldly;
holding me together
by a whisper
just.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Much enjoyed. A kind of earthy honesty in an olde English style of writing Steve 10+++++++++