When something is broke it is never truly broken.
A memory is just added where what’s missing should be.
Who is missing is never truly lost,
For the lost never know where they are.
What we know cannot be known forever,
Because everything changes with time.
Where I’ve been darkness holds the lever,
To a fate that remains to be mine.
How is something that is gone not gone forever?
When even memories are subjected to the tide.
Why do people try to run and be clever?
A fate at the end, from which no one can hide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem