Some of it is....changed only by it's other still
stilled frame same is diffrent hue
the moon darkies side washes tide
turning the world on it's side still shutters
most smiles
flashes of brilliance morns dawn is early
for most
sipping his wine.
Pictures face altered in you clock is rotated
youth frames a gaze
holding hands eyes pan
sets Victorian goth
sun is alight on
history past by the nights changing
guard stars can speak
into your black box
of tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem