Love gets lost occasionally
within the tempest of time
and all that remains
are the images left behind
in albums gathering dust
waiting to awaken memories
of times long gone by
when the flower of youth
was budding ready to bloom,
such is the photographs
of a love long extinguished
within the tempest of time.
15 April 2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem