A flying feather is floating in the sky
in search for answers not a why
if I could predict them it would be too much
if I could only change fate with a little touch
I've never seen a bird flying after his frail tail
but why then would I, but why then would I
not leave it to its destiny and let it fly
my arch is my eagerness to know
my openness remains an open door
before one feather it would grow
a wing or two, I know, I vow,
I keep relating, associating
with heaven as my limit
while hell shall make me burn
but never will I turn
my back and close this door. M
Heave and the places in which all souls will eventually dwell. excellent poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well authored awesome poem. Truly splendid.10++++++