Spirit.
What is it?
It's too ethereal
For me.
If you see ghosts
Or angelic hosts,
That's your reality.
Soul.
Where is it?
A shoulder
To cry on!
A love
To rely on!
Does it enliven
The breath in me?
Heart.
I've got it,
Too painfully.
It's emphemeral,
I can feel it,
At times I must
Heal it,
It's inside and outside
Of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem