With no laughs or cries she slowly said good night........ Resting her head upon the pillow. Like any willow......calling it a tree might be too specific, as the labels played are somewhat segnific ant could not play craw upon. She sleeps as the knight owl weeps, ....... dreaming of lands where all ants get a castle made of grain. One mans food, of ones home.........another makes rain. At last....she'll find peace to fast, ....on. Eaten up and swayed, only soul can remain untaind, once this cycle takes it's place...... And in between all time and space..... there lays a princess, made of all I can invision and taste.....As if awaken by a dream, ... a prince with no shadow to remain unseen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem