A plain of barren rock,
beneath a leaden sky.
No breeze, no rain, just still, dead air,
a desolate place to die.
The horizon stretches infinite,
no shelter can be found.
A boneyard for the desperate,
before they’re laid beneath the ground.
I tallied for a while,
walked that desolate place.
Abandoning all reason,
my companion was my disgrace.
The plain seemed never ending,
my mind couldn’t take the strain.
A prisoner in the vastness,
a world born of my pain.
Then one day a zephyr,
blowing soft, with fragrance sweet.
It whispered words of hope,
made the leaden sky retreat.
My disgrace began to fade,
ebbing away was my pain.
The sun rising on the horizon,
flowers sprouting on the plain.
Although there are moments,
when I pass that barren place.
I will not ever return there,
the sun now kisses my face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really liked this poem so much I couldn't explain it. The texture of your words was immaculate. Well done.