As I cry I forget all my worries
Till I wonder why I cry at all
Whilst I am floored cut off, down
I ask myself
What is it to die on stage?
Not in a way that's bad, I mean
For you to bring it all
Open your own, cage door
Let the angels & dark beasts rage
Make love under the spotlight
What is it to be loved, adored
What is it like to be, renovated?
What is it like to feel renewed?
Worshipped, worshipped, worshipped
And listened to, to be like snowfall
Fluttering on everything on everyone
To then listen to like a shaman
A soothsayer a new-born Buddha
To be like a pristine burning fire
That purifies the shadows in you & me
What is it to die on stage?
Not in a way that's bad, I mean
For you to bring it all
And open a cage door
To be loved & adored
To be renovated?
To find your own, wings.
Find that spark that ignites who you, really are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a well composed poem with a difference, I loved and enjoyed reading the poem. thanks for sharing.