Curses Of My Life Poem by Natasha Foster
Curses Of My Life
I stand alone through each long day,
In the Secret Valley of Silence;
Free to all souls, the hidden beauty calls.
From its blue vase, the rose of evening drops,
You're blind like us. Your hurt no man designed;
As one, at midnight, wakened by the call.
Go from me, I am one of those who fall;
I should like to imagine
Mountains, and the lonely death at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/6/2026 9:56:44 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
