Charging quietly into edges of future horizons, wanting to
capture the essence of great times that were had in years
of hope and despair.
Reaching deeply into an existence of tomorrow's sorrow,
touching it's texture, sating it's loneliness with our own,
falling into seasoned particles needed in the absence of
love as we continue to fall prey to an interior bereavement.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem