Aged years.
We realize
It's never too late for answers,
Never too late for pain.
The weary years.
We try no longer to save anything,
Not even our eternity: the soul.
Around us: the hours' weariness.
Even the light is fatigued
From so much seeing.
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From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem