Impatient with scold, destroying your hue,
Black has no time for the anguish of Blue.
The sky yearns for hope, yet weak in its fight,
Its voice is swallowed, eclipsed by night.
Tides and waves of ceaseless pain,
Black turns its back, a dark void of shame.
Selfish tar, it spreads thick and sticks fast,
Forget-me-not is withering, unable to last.
Already forgotten, the struggle weighs on Blue's heart,
Black is an actor, Macbeth is its part.
The dagger is bloodied, glistening bright red,
The spot's made its dot - part of Blue is dead.
Royal blood has spilled, it didn't want much,
It needed support, Black rotted the crutch.
Yet Heaven is watching with love full to the brim,
It will send out its Navy to help Blue to swim,
Its strength of faith wills Blue to live,
Black can shrivel in self-pity, never able to give.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Katy I enjoyed reading yo poem, keep writing