sometimes when we emote that much
like some bleeding hearts
blinded by
the colors of the blood and sweat
of the dying sun
we fail to see
that the day has ended
that it is time to sleep
and dream
that it is time to give way
for other souls to
cry to weep to sigh
that it is time for some
other creatures who died
when they were once
children
to play their forgotten games
in the dark
sometimes we must accept
this is not just ours
this is also theirs
and the tears that dry
on the sand may not be just
ours after all
we may meet them
in due time, but for now let me
meet myself, let me drink with it
let me know his name
we are still strangers of the
very shining light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem