Why do beautiful things end only to leave you with things that have no use?
After everything is said and done, what am I supposed to do with so much love.
It flows from my heart and creeps into my bones and only to end in a big ache.
Why should I still believe in all the dreams I was dreaming if all are left without any meaning?
Who am I suppose to trust If all my friends in good times turned out to be really cold and unfriendly strangers?
I wish I could shake off all this love, but all I really need is a million years until it fades out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem