I’ve died a thousand count
buried myself in the morgue of thoughts.
Moping around in a somber sphere
But each time you walk pass
a light slides over my eyes,
like morning I wake to my divine senses.
Pure spirit in cloak of snow
do not stop passing by
Lest I die and never wake on the morrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful and meaningful prayer glorifying the divine power and it's mercy. Enjoyed reading. Thanks for sharing.10 points.