There’s a tunnel
I’m walking through
To get to you
Unsent letters
On the table;
Scattered letters
On a burnt paper
Black coffee stains
Everywhere
This can’t be stopped
Not before I see
All of you,
Not before you feel
What I feel…
We are strangers
Separately
-You and me-
Strayed for a long time
into each other’s minds
beyond the iris
of our eyes
It seems endless
-with no shortcuts-
The tunnel that leads
to the truth
And the ones who
are seeking you
Should never
Complain
about the Pain…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem