How can it be anything other then speculation in till the facts not all being in?
You have this mystery that needs solved.
You have these theories that need to be tried and proven.
Yet their angry at what your doing.
They think it is outright offensive.
They think you are destroying both a perfectly good name and idol.
But you never said it was of any certainty.
You admit you could be wrong.
But still the investigation needs to be done.
Is it so wrong to ask the questions?
Why are their so many objections?
Personal bias in the form of love.
Take a step back my little dove.
Trust me the answers will come.
And I will be alright no matter what.
In the memory of a moment of what you remember.
Not an occurrence of the already dead and gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem