Lay down every leaves that fall into
the darkest side
and envy not the shadow of pain
the icon that glitters is just but a color
of the silver dust of the
dawn; dusk the wind that float into the sky
and hold nay the ego of the past
hold on the line that continue
where the smile of your dream capture the
wisdom of time when you'll still
young to cherish
though in every tears gifted the ecstasy of being
one to come; each blessed
night rushes the splendid laughter of crumble
ground where the
night listen to the broken pieces of
conquer flame
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem