Lost angels create
haunting and enigmatic art
that lasts the ages.
They are left spellbound
by the lyre of Orpheus
Torn between the light and dark,
they look for refuge,
and an Eden- like fusion,
after wanderings
in the Fall's arid deserts.
From fragments of love
they trace vast realms of sorrow.
Then, they weave new dreams
and strange possibilities.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem