a solid stack of dusty tomes
a prayer on which she built dreams
each one to fade; discard
no promise lived became as it seemed
a cry for help was a truth revealed
untouched, unloved
the seeping wound
a fate congealed
their smile so hard and faked
denied the tears across her face
blamed her for the past embrace
and buried her soul in their wake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem