As the Wheels of Time Grind,
Slowly the Pain eases in my weary mind;
When ev'ry thought doth seem to remind-
mem'ries of thee I now find...
Haunting my days like Ghosts of Yore:
Thou Blessings of Love now a chore.
And I cannot see thee anymore,
And it makes ev'ry fibre in my soul sore.
Tender the thread that connects us thus-
And monumental's the task of rebuilding trust.
Never confuse love with lust,
Thou shalt find thyself a
broken
bust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem