] When pain oozes,
from turmoil,
my desires flames to fire,
I know it will worsen to agony,
Present with dormant, and volcanic strains,
Upturned from ashes,
scattered beneath,
my bare feet,
My sole blistered,
with spark,
to know at real,
that i am still a stranger,
in your eyes.
and in the humid day where leaves are not swaying and shrubs don't swing i remember those sands in the footprints of a stranger...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful poem shared about a stranger...........