It’s hard to live,
When you know you’re dying;
It’s hard to talk,
When you know you’re lying.
It’s hard to fly,
When you know you’re falling;
It’s hard to hear,
When you know death’s calling.
If tomorrow I should never,
Rise and see the sun;
If tomorrow I should find,
That darkness reigns and death is done.
I’ll be watching you in heaven,
My dear and darling one;
When I’m flying with the angels,
I’ll think of you, my son.
(July 2007)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So passionate..emotions flowing clearly! I really like your style..very exquisite..unique..and glowing...