Seems the rough road never ends,
thorny path intimidating,
those lovely garden turns to wither,
leaves dried falling aimlessly,
No reasons of their departure,
Saying goodbye to another, buds,
of no promise to return.
There paces move so slowly,
wounded toes keep on worry,
Mind never regret for another move,
A mile ahead is such so far a glance
The soul fuels the nerve,
of tiring souls to the trail ahead,
Who cares to patch the light
for such a weary souls,
the long journey will end,
When life's will end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great imageryyou got there! ! ! Well done piece! ! ! God bless! ! !