Midnight creeps,
tiptoes towards me,
falling in
to stars now unmasking themselves,
n dance with the moon,
faith unshaken,
the witching hour rises
more slowly than the sun,
comes crawling through the window on bruised knees,
blue moon,
missing green eyes,
n a smile that lights up the room,
Missing days i was not in love,
when poetry bled through, me
my pen a slave,
my body no more than a conduit,
N the electricity is gone now,
only finding its way through threw your fingertips,
n i am wondering what color your eyes are today,
n all writings are lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it does take over, great work