I think it was losing Lyric that did it
After everything else that I had lost
It was the final straw
My gardens once bright and heavy laden with fruit
Became dry and fallow
The soil hard and unworked
Uncared for
The bright blue sky became pale
The sun harsh and hot
My hands so full of carving and craft
Gripped nothing
No longer was beauty
Birthed by them
They were as empty as my heart
In the end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem