Words once solid now crumble like dust,
scattered by the wind of forgotten intentions.
Eyes that once held certainty
now turn away, unreadable, distant.
The weight of what was said,
what was meant,
what was left undone,
settles heavy in the silence.
Not anger, not sorrow-
just the quiet understanding
that some things are never meant to last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem