One thread many lights
blow, blow and the thread gives way
lights collide
how many will survive?
don’t know
and if anymore give way
the darkness will grow
burn, cause it helps
listen, he is there
listen
crash the dream
listen, he will come
listen, she is gone
listen, she is withering
hold
listen, pull through
watch them crumble
cry but not this time for ‘me’
how long
hold on
quicksand swallows all
but the lights will pull through
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem