I usually close my eyes and sob tears of joy to the morning skies.
I feel so unworthy of you, love.
But so thankful that I'm graced with your presence.
How could I be on that pedestal with you?
I'm so sinful while you're much too pure.
And at the end of each day,
I stare off into the night and sob sorrowful tears.
Because, I know, you'll find someone just as pure as you are.
And I just don't want to be alone again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem