They throw their pick,
at walls of black,
shovel it up...and put it in a sack.
Guided by the flame of light,
working in a darkness...that`s darker than night.
No place for comfort...no place to sit,
Light knows only...the flame that`s lit,
as down more they go...deep within...the dark coal pit.
flame of light. I like it. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
No matter how dark they say James but when they see light from their motivated heart they will go everything well...even darkest than a night, inside their heart always bright for something..._Soul