Nothing but a skeleton
Draped with skin
Protruding and rough
And smelling of human blood
I walk a dead man on
The changing surface of
The world.
Wind can lift me
Rain can wash me away
And winter can turn me
Into a handful of snow
I will melt in the heat
of summer.
Still walk tall
as if I live forever
As if I am the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poem