raindrops
Sliding off its rosy crown.
Facing to the sun; tomorrow
Stem that’s sometimes bending down,
Happiness to sorrow
Whispers of the wind not
Heard,
Eternal screaming; deafening.
Soft kiss sealing truth in words,
not voice not touch not breath not writing.
Petals closed, everlasting.
In hopes to never feel the pain;
A prick from a rose, last thought enchanting.
Leaves scars deep down, yet not in vain.
Forest fire burning through.
Last time to ever taste the rain
'Till man comes and pulls her by the roots
As the silver moon doth wane.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem