He was my everything and nothing at all,
imprinted in my bones and haunting like a ghost,
lost within the shadows of time's empty recall
which offers me no glimpse of what I love the most.
His laughter and his smile - neither graces my mind.
Like smoke for the saints, they have drifted away.
He cannot cross the distance that he left behind
nor whisper the words that I never heard him say.
He faded into light; and I yearn for the sun,
brushstrokes of color falling soft upon my hair.
In the quaint pulse of silence, my dreams come unspun,
unfurled in breath of prayers whispered to the air.
He left me in December, overturned in blue.
In the echo of a heartbeat, he departed;
and the cold wing of winter brushed against me too,
muting the dreams that once left me happy-hearted.
They say he was a rebel, but I'll never know.
My lot in life is that I'll never get the chance.
Swallowed by the earth, in a quiet yawn below,
is the man who will never teach me how to dance.
The moon leans through my window with stars in her eyes.
She waits for no one and for someone to appear,
but I have lost the will to fall for such disguise.
This mortal dust is but a pinch and that is clear.
I used to gambol on the green, bathed in the glow,
as insouciant as silk dancing on the wind.
I loved with all my heart and in my heart was Joe;
but life and love, like Joe, came to a tragic end.
From a raven's quill I tumbled into the deep
cutting the stillness into fragments of my soul
and moved into the darkness, unashamed to weep,
casting tears until they became a steady roll.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem