Rumors swirl
like autumn leaves
tossed in a cold
and adverse breeze.
These are days
of dark uncertainty.
She knows I love her.
Isn't that enough?
I've touched her shoulders
and kissed her hair,
I've prayed for her in the candlelight,
perhaps, I should never see her again.
What could love or a thousand deities
ever owe me?
4: 11AM 1-26-2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem