Peaceful and comfortable, raising questions pertaining
to a love that once upon a time actually was alive and
well.
Through the years it was eaten by moths and left in
tattered rags along with the remaining fabric of our
essence and being.
Seeing the lateness of the hour, knowing there's nothing
left to hold onto in this temporary life, leaving all
suggestions to the Divine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem