The ground is reflective
Taking a massive beating from its rain
Inspired hearts spill last words on their broken canvas
Listening to thunder derailing trains
Flashes of lightning spider through the air
Shattering a light somewhere
It is day; it is black.
A mother crouches in a basement holding her little girl tight
Kissing her head, swearing everything will be all right
Just behind their cement, the wind whistles its mad tune
Nailing frightful notes and lying to your eyes
It will not be over soon
And passive eyes gaze from a small window
Just above the white
Where the sun warms the skin and rain can only listen in
Where the blue sky holds it's black world so tight
Just above the white
For a reel of time, they slip into a crack
Where the storm cannot attack
A few thousand souls ignorant to its rights
Unaware of the punishment being dealt just below their toes
Just above the white
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem