What was it that took
the comfortable silence from the room?
What did it do, to the peace
once thought to be solace?
The glowing yellow roses,
sitting atop the coffee table,
need be more lustrous
in order to push the dark
into its rightful hole
Or maybe it worked!
It pushed just fine, toward the
inner holes placed on both sides
Easily accessing the sponge inside
And the room grows wonderfully bright,
yet shaded within the margins
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
rightful hole, wonderfully bright,