Fate has finnally discarded
us, thrust us into a place
with wet walls that rise further
than the eyes can see.
All around us are the shattered
remains of yesteryears love
fragments of muted memories
that cut deep into the skin.
Barefoot we walk inbetween
the once, and the was.
Upon a battlefield of broken dreams
where ghosts linger in the mist
eternally searching.
Fate has bored playing with us:
Check mate my love.
tends to become boring. perhaps you are not so inspired now. perhaps a travel would shake things up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem Vincent, but it ain't finished till the sweet lady sings again! Never count your love affairs, especially when they're matched. Tai'd in distress