so long,
the love we shared was mystery,
and,
no history would decay these pleasant boundaries,
tender hearts,
whose minds were joint with souls,
the holes,
that were filled with glidding stars,
but the love we shared,
was juste mystery,
and the dove we cared,
was simply a day,
we had hoped to see again together,
with these hands heavenly enigmatic,
we both will sing a song,
of our rabid animosity,
just to maintain our domicile love
but,
the love we shared was just,
an expeditious mystery,
of edible hearts,
that are exposed to hungry distance,
and cruel thoughts,
thirsty cheats,
and more sad stories,
afflatus stories that waved,
now and again those stormy winds,
with chalky loyalty,
our love still written along many sad realities,
and upon all these sudations,
we stood strong,
infront of the delinquent world,
but still,
the love we shared,
was just
yet another effeminate mystery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem