I thirst for the fulfillment
Of whats yet to be seen
The angelic perilous
That influences the soft whispers spoken to the heavens
Matrimonies sung through the meek tenors our voices have yet to utter
Only to abide by the gentle sensation that keeps aspiration longing
Chilled by the fires that elopes heavens breath
covets made clear with each pulse that streams through each vein
Mere twinges that recite empathies succor
Incapable of needing anything else
Fulfillment of the dreams harvested whilst awake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem