the footprint you left
in the damp earth of my soul,
testifies in the room of inner silence.
i've named falling stars after you for years...
perhaps i should have named them after me!
now it is not the bridge or the lantern,
not even the bottomless chasm.
it is the choice, and of that,
destiny is formed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Do we really make choices or is it destiny that makes them for us. A fantastic poem.