Most of us stalk upon life like it's our prey,
Hunting the only thing that matters;
Figuring out something must be wrong,
It starts to feel like every time you look beck, you're forgetting something;
Maybe it's the reflection in the mirror,
Or the construction of life pierced somewhere in your heart;
Suddenly the light of dawn strikes upon you,
The weight of life is lifted off your gloomy mind;
When you look upon the horizon you don't understand,
Why you hid from passion, love, and paradise for so long;
By: Alicia N. Cross
10-12-09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem