Ancient Treasure Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Ancient Treasure
Mirrors broken into shards, cutting my mind,
making memories bleed into my heart.
Sorrow tasting of salted brine, burning the
wounds, crying out in distress, wanting only
a reprieve from somewhere in this world.
Changing rules and focusing energy to the
center of my mind.
Holding every ancient treasure in the darkness
of lonely abandonment.
Unsweetened never in this lifetime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 10:26:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
