Your calloused, gentle hand slips away from my little one,
Just as the murkiness blinds me.
It creeps onto me and chokes me off,
I can't find you in the battle.
Wrapping around my sunny soul,
The steam is hungry.
And sour like spilled milk,
In the darkest hour.
I stumble and gag,
Swirling lightly in the mist.
You are just a shadow now,
Or maybe even an illusion
Gone for good,
Maybe more treacherous than this smoky rein.
The Fog clears away, replaced with
Baby blue angels resting in the sky,
With their leader in center, the happy sun.
But even without the fog, I cannot see you anymore
You slipped away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank You Very Very Much. It was, used as a symbol, to show losing someone.