To all the burnt out candles,
that I once lit,
on a dark, cold shelf,
I left you burning on it.
I watched the flames burn out of every heart I've broken,
let the breeze blow you out,
gently still glowing,
on that dark painted shelf, a sorry, for I'm so sorry, I left you all burning out.
Then our loved died out,
on that cold, dark shelf,
the wicker's glowing now,
a brand new candle, of a sparkling new.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cheating hearts are cruel