The steady putter of the rain, the hope of sun but the faint puddels lay.
Unsighted happyness undoubted trust, no rythem but combusted lust.
The gray overcomes bethrown the trees.
Running pipes power drains sliden dreams.
Comfort moments charted last, save the rain anbd drwn my past.
Coco fae
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem