The edge of night,
cruelty of the world
upon us.
The streets are void,
the time is still,
sounds of silence
are almost unreal.
The lights in the distance,
they keep us alive,
the magical feeling
that helps us to survive.
The skies are red,
the time is now,
to leave this world
and take a bow.
As seen from up here,
everything seems so small;
my street,
my lights,
The edge of night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A fine craft man ship is your poetic talent Mr Dave. It is a poem that speaks of the possibility of your great contributions ahead..