I feel the pull.
Not even light escapes they say,
where windless stars
conceal a hint of yesterday.
The blackest void,
the center of the galaxy,
still hides in space
and whispers of our history.
And at the edge,
a planet turns most unaware
of ancient laws
that linger in the shadows there.
And on that world,
as evil greed and war consume,
so few look up
to understand the hiss of doom.
As if the pull
will never reach the soul of man,
as light and time
return to dust where we began.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem