Nocturnal Race Poem by Troy Tun
Nocturnal Race
the scratching sounds
of my pen
can be heard this night
with a faint light
coming from my room,
flickering with
the music of my flute
as i write down the notes
on a blank music sheet.
with the moon out there
waiting impatiently,
I must finish the sonata
before she disappears in
the oppressive morning light
and the voices of the mass.
hang on a little longer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 10:37:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
