Please, be calm in twenty one
While the roaring winds may come
They will come to free your mind
Open the locks, the freedom kind.
Taste your night for twenty two
Flavors of the sky are blue
And black, as the sign of plague,
While the cries asunder vague.
Shut your eyes at twenty three
With only blankness, you may feel
That this night, like your mother
Comforts the grief that smothers.
The end comes by twenty four
When thoughts galore no more
You're tired and you want to sleep
That’s when Death begins to creep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb poem...24 time to ge to bed.....Lovely.Good Night and sweet dreams.......10