The love has died,
and taken words with it,
to the grave.
Its left me empty,
I’m picking up the pieces,
But there is nothing to save,
You were my king,
the love that ruled me,
was nothing but a knave
But I miss the depression
of unfulfilled hope
that that love gave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow what a poem.really written with a very heatache..really amazing and sad.......lovely poem dear keep writing