Setting Sun Poem by Silent Blo0m silent.blo0m

Here,
still,
this setting sun.
When will it rise?
Allowing a glimpse of a new world.

Waiting for it,
I must bear father and mother,
my hands over my ears,
also trying to hide my tears.
I must bear myself,
and all these ideas against me and I.
And I must try,
not to ruin everyone's life.

But I believe in it—
This life,
where the sun will return,
warm up my skin,
and bring the child everyone's been missing.