Let the others play on bright, sun-filled days
in song and merriment, play on.
Let me own the shadows that seep into your soul,
yet still promise hold, a promise of sleep 'til dawn.
With the morning pray.., bring them on gilded and gossamer wings,
for bright is their future with warmth of everlasting hope, and hearts lifted.
I long to be as cold and silent as a blanket of new fallen snow,
to spin webs, translucent, with life ebbing and borne of tragic past.
When, at last, clouds part and ominous foreboding dread flees,
into the corners, hiding..sinless, without remorse or regret.
Let me own this cloak, beautiful as rough-hewn stone,
I no longer seek acceptance, nor call another's fate my own.
May Calliope sing and lull them to a blissful place, redemption their's to keep,
for it was always said that it must be so.
I will continue to turn away from the calamity of the sun,
for what's left unsaid remains unsaid, what's left undone, undone.
No tears will be shed that will be seen where shadows lie,
the dark will hold them, it would seem, and so shall I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem