If I am the rose you should have given,
then you are the thorn I should have accepted,
welcomed happily with open arms
But we are indecisive,
letting our tears trickle down
and disappear in a subtle kick of dust
We rekindle what was lost
and ignite the once forgtten
But we are indecisive
I wonder if even in the most beautiful of paradises
dilemas still arise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem