She is not dead
though thru the glass
eye see what is left
of her mortal doll
what darkness would
eat my soul
if that were her
end of chapter
the book is being written
by all in her wake
a toolbox she left us all,
feelings, experiences, memories
our Star forever-young
she burned brightly
and will continue
to warm our hearts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem