Sunlight sits on empty chairs,
with every broken whisper
carving in your name,
a palm prints its breath
and begs to stay awake,
so the moon comes in and takes
in this dark blue haze,
whistling desert storms
not quiet the same,
since the last innocents of my heart
began to fade,
on a field filled with grapes,
birth embrace its way to stay,
fate rain a choice I never made.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed reading thank you for sharing