Voices rising into the atmosphere, tolling bells of tomorrow's
death, leaving nothing to expect in the future, following the
measures of time around corners past life.
Next time disappearing, capturing nothing in depths of living
a life that's exhausted, forlorn and spent, watching silent
clouds of mystery as they drift into another dimension.
No one able to stop or delay them, separating the density of
living with that of dying, spirits left to find their way in-
to heaven in a moment of bereavement as silence accumulates
and falls beyond life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are the best poetic crack cocaine ever! I love you for that! Keep Being YOU! ! !