The dying day
The setting sun
Wakes and realises
That what was really needed
Was already there
Was there all along
A glimpse of hope
Amongst the death berries
Long autumn nights
Away from the sneezes…
…Of summer and winter
and without the cold of spring
There in a place that only two people know
Is where I belong…Yet it’s so far away
Still…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem