Drawn in and I don't know why
a firey gaze offers something more,
but will I find less?
What keeps me by the dimming fire
after its warmth has long passed?
Its dieing embers hold
as I watch them pulse within...
An ever-darkening tomb conceals
any pulse remainsing. (still working on this poem)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem