The Current State Of Things: March 2020 Poem by DM W
The Current State Of Things: March 2020
Now the fountainhead of things is broken,
And life's deep wounds and scars cannot be healed.
Even Spring's promise seems like a mirage.
We are like shadows replaying old scenes.
We place our trust and faith in brand new gods.
O at times they seem to mirror our dreams!
Yet they cannot replace our emptiness.
They can only further its symptoms it seems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 5:50:27 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
