thrusting iron
burning
gasping flow
the ebb and woe
of a sickly school child who had lost his way
only to find it again
among the mirrors
cake and cookies seem less enticing
for victory
happiness?
love?
sometimes what you thought you'd lost you've found
in the sanctuary
eternally warm
familiar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem