A Poem within a Poem
What happened to the voices?
The ones that spoke to me,
Those that woke me up at midnight and;
Whispered serenades into my ears?
What happened to the nights?
The ones that inspired me,
Those that exposed me to the infinite array of stars because;
These nights only remind me of my scars…
What happened to the moons?
The ones that shimmered all through the night and;
Illuminated hope into the darkest corners of my heart and;
Brightened my nights?
What happened to the pen?
The one that bled life profusely on my pads,
That which jotted my existence in cursive and;
Immortalized my memories?
What happened to poetry?
The one that captivated my heart and moved my soul,
That which soothed my pain and spoke to me?
Whatever happened to those moments?
The ones that accompanied my misery and gave me solace;
Those that gave me life because nowadays:
The skies are but empty; the moons don't shine,
The nights are but cold and my pen don't write,
Alone in the dark for even I lack the will to fight;
But I cling to her with hopes to make it through the nights…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem