I don't know if it's because
I'm alone or because
You're an icy sun where my heart used to be.
But the world without you
Is an alexandrite lode
And I gradually transform -
One heartbeat per minute -
In a nuance that shall endure
In stone - a thorn in the ribs
Of a massif, a lode of filth and madness,
But ultimately with such an intense
Color.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem