Burning slow this flame to cinders
ash now trails a path that lingers,
Leading toward a heartless figure.
Stepping soft but crushing under
faintly sounds one scream a-shutter,
Thoughts remain but are unuttered.
Follow-far by standing steady
dragging-on though heart's not ready,
Breaking loose... and there's no levy.
sinnaminsun 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem