I lay here dreaming about you.
So seperated inside that I don't know what to do.
And these crisp, clean white sheets remind me again.
Of you and I,
worshiping times past.
Things that faded and never seemed to last.
So I wash before I get into bed,
your voice still ringing in my head.
And now as darkness nears,
my clean sheets are stained with tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sad loneliness personified but this too will pass as all things pass