The fireplace
was eager
to put a fullstop,
in the sentence
where the road
of my dreams
stuck
upon the word of happiness
with sparkles
of wet logs
I collected
from the inside of me
that I dared
to turn to ashes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Matches my sense of burning the past! When turns to ashes, no past and no passion, only the moment, the joy remain.