I can no longer hear music
You stole that from me
The sunset never will I view again
You took it with you
I will write no more for you
I will not grace your memory
With workings for posterity
I will give no more to you
I will give no thought to you
The void that you created is ready filled
With pity and self loathing
And time’s own sand
As bright, hard stars that tease with their light and distance
You are beyond my reach - ‘tis by your own design
You think of me not
I will not think of you
The breath of heaven that once I knew
Familiar as my mirrored face
Is now forever lost to me
Gone in hand with your good grace
I give no thought to you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem