Low in spirits
In high places
Looking down in the crowd
At a multitude of faces
Standing at the edge
Of a great precipice
With no one to hold me back
From this dark abyss
Then to my right
An angel appears
Cleansing me
Of my darkest fears
From nowhere
The light of hope I taste
As she whispers to me
Don’t let it go to waste
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah Nickie, another one for the soul. Ian