After all,
The pages are filled
None are left blank
The very words with which
You killed
Lets laugh
As we die
And celebrate this moment of bliss
I'll kill you with my words,
You kill me with your kiss
A part of me did die from this
I buried that part in here
Wove it into the words
The pages are stained with pain
(And I'll keep it forever)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yep, on the page, just where it belongs. Course you can? In answer to your name. Just don't post so many at a time and you might get one or two less grumpy locals to crit and comment on your offerings, which from the two I have read this far are quite succinctly expressed for one so young, keep writing. Smiling at you, Tai.