lying snowbling in the grass, reaching for the golden orb
wrapped in clouds amongst a sea of blue it's stored
shining brighter and hotter than Earth's magma core
recalling tales of that celestial dream, forever wanting more
my arms outstretched, reaching for that goal
only to have my hands return
crippled beyond belief and fatally burned
dipped in soothing blue
I'm blind to the inevitable truth
the kind of the sky is untouchable
it's heated fury devouring all
everything in comparison reigns small
it's grasp on my mind seemingly unbreakable
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem