No wealth stands
Firm
But the heart's.
Night stays
Rock
In the face
Of days.
Rays shape
The seasons
Into
Reasons
For hope.
My inner ways
Ignite the arbitrariness
Of my being
Into flames
That enrobe
The spheres
Of my wholiness.
At last
A blast of hope
Flares in the horizon
And my reason for being
Can be read
In the days
Ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem