Angelic mourning
Comes with icy lips
Frosted in agony
Wanting to melt restless nights away
Eyes upon the day’s awakening
Sees lost hearts finding oblivious endeavours
Drunken on their Kings fool’s gold
Only to find out
That they were never a Queen
But a pauper for a void
Deeper than they themselves would ever know
The hopeless try
The chosen one’s take everything for granted
Beauty gets confused
Angel’s fly to sorrow
Only to get used to the pain
Angelic mourning
Towards a night of mental decay
Heart’s soiled in contempt
Never ever have any freedom to ever roam
If there were graves for broken and confused hearts
The ground would rot to the core
Love, does it exist anymore?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem