Tears just
stood there.
Sadness coughed.
Silence held its breath.
Pain felt bad
about it, but...
Remorse, of course, had had recourse
to a drink or two
and was now in high spirIts.
Regret too had a few
too many.
Death shuffled
a brand new deck
dealt the cards
as they all gambled
for this human
to whom
they all belong.
Those unseens who wait our coming...the brush of the hands we feel in the night! Wonderful, the sense of these spirits waiting for us...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
held me spell bound by its wicked words Ruthie