Your niceness is with out a doubt.
My wanting is without a question.
With all the movement of life, I remain LOST
With every possible death your aroma
swims to me in red
With every glimmer I can inch to hope.
With every movement of force I hear your soul
Oh, how I desire to grab that figure of color,
only to realize that your niceness is without me no doubt.
Anonymous
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem