my heart still beats like a ticking clock
my lungs still move the air
and the tide runs in and out
and dreams of passion come and go
the synapses of forgotten memory
spark and fire a ghost
when the sun rises I face my chores
daydreams at the grocery store
and small conversations with idiots
still I will find the fantasy of night
and I will run to you as in my youth
my heart impassioned by desire
and you await my outstretched arms
and we are young again
as I embrace my final dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sweet is your final dream...I hope u accomplish it....anyhow a nice poem again
Thanks again Jaya.