Late at night,
When the sky is still bright,
A flicker of flame burns within my heart.
A flame long forgotten,
though a flame that's still kept.
Like wood, promises livens the flame.
Promises; though you're gone, are still kept.
Never to step out at night without you there,
Staying safe, when you're not here,
to love, and never forget you,
though you're a million miles away.
Those promises I made,
I will keep.
Will you with yours?
I think not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem