Cold and dainty, fixed in the edge of thoughts
Who thought we will come this far?
When we sat at the years of yesterday
In the memories of how little we grew in life
Singing in the choir, memos of grace and hope
Aloft the edge of success hidden in these rhythms
Time came we got its calls
We flies on wings like ancient ravens
leaving behind the nights of terror and shame
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Onoja, such a great write👍👍👍
Thanks @ Bernard F. Asuncion, I really appreciate your comment