The Seventh hour
The Seventh day
Two Thousand and Seven years after death....
The Dream real
The Meaning conceal
Yet I know the truth of this moment of time
My Brother gone
In Spirit lives
Inside yearns this second this bliss becomes
In Utterance unspoken
Truths' depth unknown
In watchful stance I shall awaiting this arrival
The Seventh hour
The Seventh day
Two thousand and Seven days after his death......................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem