Blank pages.
Empty spaces absent of
Sweet whispers from faces.
No traces of silky ink-
Only the sound of silence
Heavy, like invisible snow.
Where are they?
Where did they go?
Words that are huddled
And caged in the wings
Before the stage.
And Love? Afraid.
So it stayed in bed,
While courage fled
Down the hall
Reluctant to fall.
And the words?
They barely crawled.
The beginning was the end
For the words met no friends,
Pacing the mind end to end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great 'ending, ' Landon... well done! ! Brian