Surprise the sun surprise for the glow
For all the things that were not meant to be
The day's not a word
Cannot take it back
Resting on a sunbeam
What it meant to me
Cannot be placed in searches
It's not in the mind it's not in the hands
The lights plethora all darkness dwelled
Spat on the outskirts the city of a soul
Not a single thing
To be heavened or helled
Can no longer measure the price of a moment
It's like that and that's all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem