When the verso of the idyllic world enters the scene,
Each " I love you" is a boomerang of blazing spear.
The hours soar between dark clouds of frustration.
Rumbles of famished souls give birth to night owls,
When sweet words are as punctual as shooting stars.
Even a speck of affection requires a standing ovation.
Which thread still holds the skeleton of this bond?
Very well written poem, the images you paint are quite unique. I love this line: When sweet words are as punctual as shooting stars. 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Powerful imagery Very nice