The merging of ice, dust, and rock.
Sheen from the wings of a fairy, the tear of a mermaid forms a block.
Twisting and turning, spinning together it takes flight.
Off like and imaginable jet, it reaches amazing height.
A sick yet pleasurable touch of fire makes it shine.
Like the feather of a wounded angel, it was once mine.
Block burns to ball smiling and dancing about.
Only far off in the distance someone is going without.
The birth of my star mine oh mine.
Caused the fate of another to ride the flat line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poem...It keeps you on the edge to where you don't know if you want to be happy or sad.