She sleeps the way the willow weeps,
masquerading with the breeze.
Flaunting fiercely or so it seems
into her body my heart it seeps.
My soul is brittle like a frozen leaf,
cast down and torn from its tree
it's floating and still upon her seas.
Without her I'd live to be alone.
I don't think she'll find me on my knees,
or begging hands clasped crying 'please.'
Her sadness rattles my bones,
snapping and breaking in various tones.
Submerged in her soul my heart steeps,
Taking what's given and giving what's shown.
Is this love? It's nothing I can condone,
harden your heart, don't pick up the phone.
Don't cry within the willow's zone.
Dance with me across polished stone.
Beneath this blanket our hearts were sewn,
cheers to this friendship, let it be known.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem is really beautiful. Keep your ink flowing.