Living in a picture of the past, a still life, that no
longer has any life to live.
Beautiful colors, gentle brush strokes of the life we
have lived together.
Vibrantly painting a portrait of what we used to be,
haunting echoes of silence are all that are heard anymore.
Sun never rising or setting again, clouds no longer are
floating across blue skies, nature now deadened in an oil
painting of a life that we once used to live in.
A myriad of feelings and emotions no longer being felt,
for we have been split apart from the picture and land-
scapes of our lives.
No familiar smile, good morning kisses, nor making love,
apologies no longer necessary for we have no more time
in life, yet have done nothing wrong either.
Silence taking us both into a still life painting, all
that's left of us and our love, as I stare into it's
nothingness waiting for something to transpire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem