cold, dark, fear
pulses through the world
through every peaceful home
and every boy and girl
imagination of wonders
creating great things
where the world is happy
angelic choirs sing
there are things we see
and things we fear
things we lost
things held dear
reality strikes,
the darkness swims
the light of the world
growns cold and dim
sometimes in life
things we see
is just an escape
from the harsh reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem