My ionic alleyways corrode,
adorning sordid fantasies,
as the annals of time combust
to paint the sand with marrow,
But still this morose vision lingers
like the longest winter day,
of the impunity of shadows
and the vastness of eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another awesome poem. I like the way you execute what you want to say. Well expressed.