endless threads on my palm
searching for inconsistency;
beyond my eyes could feel
patterns that need a look
I see pain my wearing skin
would like to see red drain
but fabric stop; stand still
dust are falling, silence gain
I can't close my fingers tied
my eyes waiting and open wide
clouds painting my day scene
darkness cradles endless dream
patience keep my thoughts going
beautiful hearts voices sing
I listen with my soul in chain
who am I to be; without you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poetry. Thanks for sharing.