Each love spent well is costing more than ever,
The interest is up but the real coin of heart is hidden.
Seven faces and a side to stand upon
Three heads, three tails and the sign to hold them
Inside the memory of being more than form.
Inside the storm of being more the foam on shore,
Inside the door is now, the lock once blocked is open,
The key still there to find. we are love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem