Why does the light seem brightest,
just before it fades and dies?
Why do the waves rage highest,
at the breaking of the tides?
Why does the fruit taste sweetest,
before it starts to rot?
Our light was burning as a sun,
but then that sun imploded.
Our waves were powerful,
but now they seem the lowest.
Our fruit tasted the sweetest,
but now it is past it's best.
I guess this is the terminus,
or is it just a test?
A lovely write, although despairing its beautifully assembled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed reading your poem very much.